


Ars Moriendi

by LyricalLyrium



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalLyrium/pseuds/LyricalLyrium
Summary: Amell knows she's dying. On her final stop in Ferelden before going to the Deep Roads, she finds Cullen, alone and in the end stages of lyrium addiction. With no one to turn to, and her Calling a constant reminder of her own mortality, she does what she can to help him come back. Complete! Post game.





	1. Chapter 1

She missed the smell the most. 

Never, in a million years, would Solona have guessed the thing she’d be most homesick for was that ever-present smell of Ferelden, but here she was. The Calling was making her sentimental, she guessed. 

So her last stop on her “saying goodbye to Thedas” tour was an obscure little town right on the border of Ferelden and Orlais. Solona didn’t exactly have it all sketched out, but she had a vague idea of what she’d like to do before the end. Pet a mabari. Have some ale. This place sort of reminded her of Amaranthine, where she’d felt the most at home. The sun was sinking below the horizon as she looked for a place to stay the night. 

A rough voice from the alleyway called out to her, and she unconsciously slipped into a fighting stance. 

“Mage. You’re a mage. Please, I need... “ she relaxed, realizing the voice was a beggar lying in an alleyway. Ever since Lothering, since she had her own coin, companions had been telling her to be careful, not to just give away all their coin and poultices to everyone that needed help. She contemplated keeping the cost of a night at the inn and giving this man all the rest - after all, a dead woman doesn’t need coin - when the man pushed back his hood. His hair was filthy, long and matted, and he had a beard to match. Solona stared at him, not quite able to place him but knowing she knew him. “Lyrium,” he croaked, “Please.”

He had to be a templar - this was clearly the end stages of Lyrium addiction. She tried to run through a mental index of all the Templars she’d known. It wasn’t a long list, but something was keeping her from recognizing him. From how far gone he seemed, she knew he wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

“You’re a templar,” she said, gently crouching down in front of him. He wasn’t making eye contact - he was staring at her bag. She supposed he could probably hear the lyrium sing, like Justice used to. She couldn't help but feel a wave of pity for him. “What’s your name?”

“Cullen,” he answered, and she felt her world tilt sharply. He was too gaunt, looking more like a ghost than a man, but having his name helped her connect him to the man he used to be. She hadn’t seen him since that horrible time in the tower, but last she’d heard of him, he'd been recruited as the Commander of the Inquisition's army. How could he go from that to living on the streets in the middle of nowhere? Even if they had let him fall into madness, wouldn't someone be caring for him?

She swallowed hard, knowing those answers could come later. For now, she needed to get him home. “What - how - who did this to you?”

“Come on,” he repeated, mood swinging from desperation to irritability. He reached out for her bag and Solona stood up, putting herself out of range. The last thing she wanted was to make this worse by giving him lyrium. 

“You don’t recognize me,” she said, and his eyes latched onto her face for the first time. His brow furrowed, and she could tell he didn’t know her. “Cullen, where are you living?”

His eyes fell back to her bag. “Here,” he said, and her heart clenched. He had nothing, save for the torn clothes and thin cloak. How he survived like this... 

“Don’t you have family? Anyone who will take you in?” she asked, and he ignored her in favor of staring at her bag. Solona felt sick. She’d heard what could happen to templars addicted to Lyrium, had known the rumors of memory loss and dementia, but to see someone she knew, abandoned and on the street… There wasn’t a Chantry worth bringing him to in this desolate place. None of her contacts who could care for him were anywhere near, and he needed help now. It wasn't hard to make her decision - she couldn't just leave him there. She didn’t know if was even possible to heal him at this point, if he could come back to himself, but damned if she couldn’t try. She hadn’t been able to save him at the tower; she owed it to him to help him now.

“Cullen, I want to help you. Will you come with me?”

He pushed himself to a standing position, stumbling against the wall on his way up. He was still taller than her, but much of his muscle tone had been lost to starvation. “Where?” he asked. Solona bit her lip. 

“I don’t know, I… an inn, somewhere.” Something in his gaze sharpened and he agreed too quickly, looking at her expectantly. Solona felt ill. “There should be one down the road. Are you okay to walk?”

“Yes,” Cullen said, following along behind her. 

There were a million questions racing through Solona’s mind. Her stomach turned at the thought of what Cullen’s life must have been like, of how he had no one to see what was happening and intervene before he wound up on the streets, with no memory. How long had he been like this? Who had let this happen? Solona shut her eyes. Those were questions for later. For now she’d do what she could to bring him back, or, if there was nothing she could do, she could at least offer him a painless death.

The inn she found was small and cozy. Better than anything she expected to find. It would have been perfect for her end-of-life plan, if that hadn't been so thoroughly derailed. Solona approached the front desk with Cullen trailing behind, his presence exactly as serene and odd as a Tranquil’s. Solona hated it. 

“Hello. We’ll need…” Solona trailed off, thinking. He’d probably need help - he was so disoriented that having his own room was out of the question. “One room, please.”

The woman across the desk from her looked at her in distaste, eyes going from the herald on her breastplate to her face to Cullen. “What’s a warden want with a lyrium-addled beggar?”

Solona’s face hardened. “To help him. Do you have anyone I could hire to run some errands for me? I need supplies.” 

“What supplies?” the woman asked back, her eyes not leaving Cullen. 

“Scissors, a razor, shaving soap, a clean change of clothes…” Solona trailed off, trying to think what else she could possibly need. “And some bone broth. I don’t think he’s had a proper meal in ages.” 

The woman’s face softened. “I’ll get someone to run those up to your room.” She handed the key to Solona. “Be careful, love. They get aggressive from the withdrawals.” 

Solona nodded, taking the key. “Thank you.”

Cullen followed along, still silent and docile. She unlocked the door and he entered, looking at her expectantly. 

“You can take a seat,” Solona said, “I’ll draw a bath.” 

He sat. 

Solona moved to the other room and set about getting a bath ready. He was expecting lyrium from her, she knew. She'd have to find a way to keep it from him. Solona came back out to find him with his arms wrapped around himself, gently rocking. 

“Do you need help?” she asked him softly. He looked up at her.

“What do you want?” he asked. 

“For you to take a bath. They’re bringing you something clean to wear, and if you want I’ll help you with your hair and beard.” 

For the first time that night, Cullen seemed genuinely confused. He stared at her. Then he rose and shakily walked in the direction of the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. Solona sighed, putting her things down on the sofa. It was a large enough room that sharing wouldn’t be a problem - there was even a privacy screen for decoration. She moved it between the sleeping area and the sitting area, and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He’d been getting lyrium somehow; he was only in the initial stages of withdrawal. It wasn’t a topic Solona knew much about, but she knew getting him off lyrium would be the best way to bring him back to himself, if that could even be possible. 

A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts. Solona answered, smiling in relief at the young woman standing before her. 

“Got your things,” said the dwarf, who was carrying a large bundle and a tray. “Plus the soup for him, and a nice hearty stew for you. On the house.” 

Solona smiled, taking the bulky objects and handing over some money, with a generous tip. 

“Wow, thanks,” the woman said, looking at the coin. “They forgot to ask downstairs, ser, but what’s your name?”

“Leliana Arainai,” she said. She was surprised that no one had ever connected that name to the Hero of Ferelden, but it had served her well in keeping herself a secret for the past ten years. “Is there a way to get hold of you if I need more supplies?”

“I’ll be downstairs. I’m stationed in this area for a few weeks, so no worries about me leaving. If you want I’ll even come check on you, for that tip you gave me.” 

“Yes, please,” Solona said, already feeling relieved. This would be much easier if she didn't have to leave him. “If you could just pop back in in the morning?”

“Absolutely. Just let me know what you need.” The woman gave her a mock-salute and turned back around. 

It took Solona a second to realize she’d forgotten to ask the woman’s name. She supposed she could get it tomorrow. She set everything down before pulling out the set of clothes and knocking on the bathroom door. “Cullen? I have a change of clothes for you.” 

He opened the door, hair still matted but otherwise cleaner than before. He took the clothes without a word and shut the door again. 

While she was waiting for him, Solona ate the stew quickly as possible. She didn’t want to tempt him with food he couldn’t have. From the looks of his condition, it would be another few days before he'd be able to handle food again. She finished off the incredibly warm bread that went with it, already making a mental note to eat as much of it as possible before she went to her calling. 

Cullen emerged from the side room, staring at the bowl of broth waiting on the table. 

“It’s yours, if you want it,” Solona said, gesturing. “I’m sure you must be hungry - “

She didn’t need to say anything more - Cullen took the proffered food and ate it quickly. He ate in silence, Solona idly wondering how much she could feed him. The tunic they’d gotten hung off his frame. He was emaciated, and Solona winced to think of how hungry he must be. She decided he could definitely handle bread in addition to the soup tomorrow, and hopefully a solid meal the next day. Curing his physical symptoms would be the least of their problems.

Cullen looked at her through hooded eyes, finished with the food, and she snapped back to the present. 

“I could cut your hair, if you like,” she offered. 

“Yes,” he said, staring as she stood up and crossed the room to gather everything she needed. She made short work of it; the beard was first to go, then the mat of hair. There wasn’t much that could be saved, but from what she remembered he preferred it short anyway. No longer weighed down, his hair was curly again, and Solona could more easily see him for who he had been. His face was still sallow, still emaciated, but he at least looked like Cullen. 

Solona stared at his curls as she cleaned up, remembering how much she'd wanted to touch them when she was an apprentice. He'd never been quite so blond before. Cullen turned, stared at up her with an unreadable expression. Then he faced forward again. “You can touch my hair. If you want.” Solona gently, carefully ran her fingers through his curls. Cullen relaxed, leaning back against the chair. She almost called forth her magic without asking before stopping herself. 

“Do you have a headache?” she murmured. His eyes were half-closed. 

“Yes,” he said, voice low and content. “You can help me.” 

“I can,” she echoed. “Do you want me to?”

"Yes," he said, eyes slipping shut. 

"Here, let's get you to the bed first," Solona said quietly. 

Cullen stood and ambled over to the bed, lying down. He looked at her, so trusting, despite still not recognizing her. “Please,” he croaked, and she swallowed, hard. Gently, she rested her hand on his head, reaching out with her magic to heal whatever injures she could feel. There were the expected blisters and bruises on his body, but far worse was his psyche. His mind was torn asunder; she could feel the places where lyrium had left him with damage. Never had she felt a mind so destroyed. It was no wonder he hadn't recognized her, no wonder he was living on the streets, unable to care for himself. She poured her magic into him, continuing even after he fell asleep, until her mana pool was drained and she felt like she had done everything she could for the moment. 

It was late, she realized, and she was exhausted. She watched Cullen sleep for a few minutes, to ensure that he was sleeping well. 

Solona walked over to the couch, curling up and realizing she hadn’t asked for a blanket for herself. She dug through her bag and pulled out her bedroll. 

It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep came easily, but the nightmares wouldn’t let her rest for long. 

Nothing, Solona thought, could be quite so bad as the nightmares she had during the Blight. She had been very, very wrong. The dreams from her Calling were so close to those from the Blight, but so much worse because she could understand them so clearly now. She remembered, as a recruit, Alistair telling her some of the older Wardens claiming they could understand, and Maker, she wished she could go back to not knowing.

It looked like she wouldn’t be able to sleep through the night anymore, each dream throwing her out of her sleep. Solona knew the dreams would continue to get worse, and then she’d start to hear the whispers while she was awake. She rested her head on her knees for a moment, sending a silent prayer to the Maker that she could help Cullen before it got to that point. 

Every time she woke up, she checked on her patient. Cullen, despite his night terrors, slept soundly. Sometimes he’d furrow his brow, or cry out in his sleep, and Solona wished there was something more she could do for him. All she really could do was heal him as often as her mana would allow; even then, healing a mind was nothing like healing the body. She could feel those lyrium-scarred areas, but she didn’t know how much progress she was really making. She could perhaps do more if she had more lyrium, but she used the last of her reserves to heal Cullen and decided it would be best to not keep any in the room. 

Solona worked until she exhausted herself. A look out the window told her it would be at least a few hours until dawn; she knew she had to try to get more sleep. As the days dragged on and her Calling progressed it’d only get harder to rest. She curled up in the chair she had put at Cullen’s bedside, tiredly contemplating if it was worth moving to her bedroll when she slipped into unconsciousness.

Solona awoke in a cold sweat to find Cullen staring at her blankly. He hadn’t moved from the bed; he was sitting back against the headboard, watching her. 

“You’re crying,” Cullen said, and Solona touched her face and realized he was right. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, scrubbing at her cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” he replied. He paused. “Tired.” 

“I’ll get you more to eat,” Solona reassured him, glad he had an appetite. It was a good sign. “Cullen, can you remember…” she trailed off. He likely had no idea when the last time he had lyrium was; he definitely still didn’t recognize her. She smiled kindly, not wanting him to take any negative cues from her. “No, never mind. See if you can get some more sleep. I’ll wake you up when I come back with food, okay?”

Cullen nodded, lying down and curling up on his side. She watched his breathing even out; that he was sleeping so much was another encouraging sign. 

She ran downstairs and spotted her accomplice at a table meeting with what looked like a very shady character. Reassuring. Solona ignored her for the moment, opting instead to focus on food. 

Cullen was curled up under the blankets when she arrived. He was sweating and shivering, making low keening noises. Solona set the tray of food down, gently sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Cullen, I’m back,” she said. He rolled onto his back and looked up at her, face contorted in agony. 

“Solona?” he asked, and her heart clenched. He squeezed his eyes shut. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re…” she trailed off. There was no way he’d recovered enough to remember her; this had to be… she didn’t know what it was, yet, but she wouldn’t get her hopes up. “You’re sick,” she finally decided. “I brought you some food, but first, would you like for me to heal you?”

“You haven’t had your Harrowing yet,” he said, and Solona froze. “You can’t…” he groaned in pain. “You’re not allowed -”

“Special dispensation from Irving,” Solona said, licking her lips. She felt horrible lying to him, but it seemed worse to try to tell him the truth when he was in pain and so easily confused. “They asked me to look after you while the spirit healers are busy.” 

“Oh,” he breathed, eyes pressed shut. “Then yes. Please.” 

Solona set to work, leaning over him. She felt herself desperately wishing all she had to do here was closing wounds, helping new skin grow - this was more nebulous, more guesswork. If nothing else, she could at least ease his pain. Slowly, as her magic made it's way through him, Cullen’s face relaxed. Solona sat back, exhausted. “How’s that?” she asked. “It’s the best I can do, for now.”

“Better,” he said, pushing himself up to sit. Solona handed him a portion of food and he ate in silence. He looked as exhausted as Solona felt - both the lyrium withdrawal and the healing were difficult, and being awake for either part would lead him to want to get more rest. Cullen took a long look at her and frowned. She blinked up at him. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“What are you wearing?” Cullen asked, brow furrowed as he stared at the Warden heraldry on her armor. 

“Oh,” she said, eyes widened. “This… It’s….” she didn’t quite know how the memories worked for him. Did he think it was a specific point in time? Would he know there was a Warden guest coming? Would he buy an excuse? “Do you remember hearing about the Grey Warden coming to the tower?”

Cullen’s frown deepened. “Yes…” he said, voice distant, as though he were putting together pieces of a puzzle. 

“They wanted to recruit me,” she said. 

“You can’t,” Cullen protested. “Your Harrowing -”

“Irving and Greagoir said the same,” she lied, taking the now-empty tray from him. “The wardens left me with this, to try to tempt me for after I’ve passed my Harrowing. I was trying it on when they told me you were sick and you needed me.” 

Maker, she hoped lying to him like this wouldn’t do more damage. It felt so wrong, especially after what a demon wearing her face had done to him in the tower. She swore after this she’d change out into mage robes. Or maybe her warden attire would be better for him - She hadn’t exactly dealt with lyrium addiction and withdrawal before. She didn’t know if he’d keep recognizing her, or if he wouldn’t know it was her and just trust that a Grey Warden was caring for him. 

“Oh,” Cullen said, relaxing back against the pillows and closing his eyes. “My head feels… I can hardly think. It’s so clouded…”

“It’s alright,” Solona said, watching him press his hands to his forehead. “That’s why I’m here.” 

“It hurts,” he said. 

“Do you have a fever?” she asked. When he didn’t respond, she gently took hold of his hand to remove it from his forehead. “Maker,” she murmured, pressing his hand between hers, “Your hands are freezing, Cullen.” 

He blushed, and his thumb lightly, shyly traced the side of her hand before he pulled his hand back and under the covers. Solona felt a pang of regret - she’d dreamed about small, clandestine moments between them like this, back at the tower. She guessed so had he. 

“I feel cold,” he admitted, not making eye contact. “I feel… Everything f-feels wrong, Solona.” 

“I know,” she replied, gently pressing her wrist against his forehead. “You do have a fever. I’ll be right back.”

Cullen frowned, eyes closed. “All right,” he said. 

Solona rushed to get a small bowl of cold water and a cloth; when she came back, Cullen was breathing shallowly. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, and Cullen’s eyes opened. 

“You’re back,” he said, voice relieved. 

“I am,” she agreed, gently setting the bowl on his bedside table and wringing out the cloth. Solona sat on the bed so she wouldn’t have to reach over. “How are you feeling?”

“The same,” he said, eyes shut. He shifted, almost unconsciously, closer to Solona. “Please don’t go again.” 

“I won’t,” she reassured him, pressing the cloth against his forehead. "You should lie down and try to get some more sleep." He closed his eyes and shifted again, curling up against her side. Solona held her breath. “Solona,” he said, voice low, “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not,” she repeated, softly. “I’m here for as long as you need me.”

“No,” he said, “The Wardens. Don’t join the Wardens. Don’t leave.” 

Solona shut her eyes. “I won’t, Cullen.”

“Good,” he said. 

He drifted off to sleep without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were, relatively speaking, uneventful. Cullen was going through the worst of it now and woke only to eat. He slept through her healing him, and though she had a feeling she was making progress, his memories didn’t seem to be coming back any quicker. He had no more episodes of lucidity and hadn’t recognized her again. He barely noticed Solona was there, much less spoke to her. 

Solona passed the time by writing letters or knitting. That woman - Harding, she’d finally discovered - had been as good as her word about bringing supplies. And Solona had no qualms about spending coin. No point in bringing it to the Deep Roads. So Harding had been bringing her food for Cullen, and writing supplies and knitting needles and yarn for her to keep busy while she held vigil. She had even brought Solona intel on helping Lyrium addiction. 

The two women sat in the small sitting area, separated from Cullen by the privacy screen Solona hadn’t moved. She looked over the intel brought to her by Harding as the woman mixed herself some tea off the set she’d brought up for Solona. 

“This is such great information,” Solona said earnestly. “I’ve been so worried about what to do when he’s lucid, but it looks like keeping him calm and going along with whenever he thinks it is is the right thing to do. Knowing there’s hope that he can recover is really helpful.” 

“It won’t be easy,” Harding warned. “The withdrawal alone could kill him. And he could get irrational, attack you just for being a mage.” Solona shrugged. 

“I won’t mind. In his state I doubt there’s much he could do to me.” 

“He still has his templar abilities,” she said. “But I’m sure you knew that.” 

“I did. I’m not scared,” Solona replied, leaning forward to place the bundle of documents on the table. “This is the least I can do for him, after everything he’s been through.”

Harding nodded, and the two were silent for a moment. 

“Could you look into other options for caring for him?” Solona asked. At Harding’s concerned look, Solona rushed to add, “It’s not that I want to leave him - if he wants me here, I’ll stay as long as it takes, Warden business be damned. But…”

“You don’t think he wants you taking care of him?” Harding asked, sounding confused. 

“I don’t know. He recognized me once, but he thought it was years and years ago. I don’t know if he’ll want me around, if he regains more memories of me. We haven’t spoken in over ten years. If he does ask me to leave, I’d like to make sure he’s taken care of. I have the coin, that’s not a concern.” 

“I’ll look into it. How did you know him, anyway?” Harding asked. 

“He was a templar in my circle, before I became a warden,” she said. “We weren’t friends, but we were friendly. As amicable as a templar and a mage can be within bounds of propriety.” 

Harding nodded, finishing off her tea. “I can’t believe you found him.”

“I wasn’t even looking for him.” Solona stared down at the table. “I was here for warden business. It was pure coincidence.” 

“Wardens don’t usually travel alone,” Harding observed. Solona shrugged, not really knowing how to respond. 

“No,” she replied, “Most don’t.”

Harding pressed on. “So what would bring you here alone?”

Solona leaned forward with calculated casualness and put her teacup on the tray.. “Like I said - warden business.” 

Harding scoffed. “You wardens and your secrets. What’s that all about?”

“Keeping people safe from Blights, or so I’m told,” she replied, tucking her legs underneath her. She’d switched from her Grey Warden armor to more comfortable robes that didn’t clearly mark her as a mage - the intel had suggested that this was the time that Cullen was most likely to develop the paranoia and obsessive symptoms. No point in clearly marking herself as a mage if he couldn’t recognize her anyway. 

“I guess it worked out well enough for the Hero of Ferelden,” Harding said, and Solona tried to look like she wasn’t freaking out. She’d always been a terrible liar, and to talk about herself in the third person... would not end well. “She managed to end the Blight before it even started, practically.” 

“She had help,” Solona said, “Or, that’s what the stories say.” 

Harding nodded. “They’re all secondhand, though. The Hero herself never gave firsthand accounts. I wonder why that was?”

Solona leaned forward, picking up her tea back up and taking a thoughtful sip. “Well, she disappeared so fast after the Blight. She probably didn’t have time to talk to all the people who wanted to interview her.” 

“True,” Harding said. “I wonder where she is right now?”

Solona shrugged. “Probably dead. Wardens who live through Blights have shorter lives, you know.”

“But King Alistair is still alive,” Harding shot back, “And he’s a Warden from the Blight.”

Solona stared down into her mug, not particularly wanting to discuss this further. This woman was too perceptive for her to be talking about herself; it would be far too easy to give away her identity. She very desperately needed to change the subject. Lightly, she asked, “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually. Do you know if there’s somewhere I could get blueberry muffins?”

Harding stared at her, both eyebrows fully raised. “I could look into it. Why?”

“Well, part of the reason I came topside is because I missed civilization. The darkspawn aren’t particularly good hosts, as I’m sure you can imagine. And the biggest thing I missed was blueberry muffins.”

A rough, “Who’s there?” came from behind the partition, and Harding stood. 

“That’s my cue, then,” she said, “Listen, they’ll keep the food deliveries coming, but if you need anything else you should start coming downstairs to find me. You can’t say cooped up in this room forever.”

“All right. Thank you,” Solona said, putting her tea back down and standing up. 

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see what I can do about those muffins for you,” Harding stood and left the room. 

Solona came around the partition to find Cullen sweating and shaking. He picked at his shirt, agitation in his face. He looked up at her, looking through her. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

“I’m a healer,” Solona said, voice gentle. “I’m here to help you. How are you feeling?”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, and he looked around the room. His right hand clenched and released, while his left continued to pick at his shirt. This episode looked to be the worst so far. 

“I need…” Cullen’s eyes continued to search the room, as if he’d be able to remember if he could find what he needed. His eyes locked onto Solona again, and his frown deepened. “You. You look familiar. Who…” He abruptly looked away. “I’ve been here before. Why can’t I remember...” 

Solona watched him, knowing there was nothing she could do. She had to let him get through this. All she could do was keep him comfortable through the worst of it. 

“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked softly. “Water?”

Cullen acted as if she’d never spoken. He pushed the covers off, threw his legs over the side of the bed. Solona stood, reaching over to help him up. Cullen grabbed onto her arms, hoisting himself up. He overbalanced, and Solona braced herself to keep them both upright. 

“Cullen, what do you need?” she asked. The disorientation, the irritability, even the deja vu were all expected symptoms - but if he wanted to leave the room, she wasn’t sure she could let him do that. 

He began to walk forward, and she helped him. Maybe he just needed to get up and move; he had been lying down for days. Cullen suddenly went slack in her arms, and his muscles tightened and started to jerk. With the kind of clarity that comes through crisis, Solona gently lowered him on to the floor, making sure there was space around him. 

Harding had warned her to expect seizures, had explained to her what to do when they happened. It was only a minute or so, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. When Cullen stopped seizing, he stared around the room, looking disoriented, lost. 

“I’m here,” she said, kneeling on the floor beside him, and his eyes slowly moved to find her. “Take the time you need, Cullen. I’m here.” 

Cullen’s hand reached out in her direction. He shut his eyes and began to cry. Solona swallowed, hard, reaching out to hold his hand. 

His voice was slow, delayed, and his hand weakly gripped hers. “Why?” he asked her, and she knew he wasn’t asking why she was here. 

“I don’t know,” Solona replied, gently stroking his forearm as she held his hand. It seemed to help, at least to calm him down. “I’m so sorry.” 

Cullen lay on the floor for a few more minutes, but he seemed to slowly be coming back to himself. 

“Do you want me to help you up?” Solona asked quietly. 

Cullen’s response was to slowly push himself up to a sitting position and look at her expectantly. Still no sign of recognizing her. Solona wondered if he’d never remember her again - Templars could recover but still have pieces of memory gone. He could come back to himself, could be Cullen again, but may not recognize her as Solona. May not even remember a Solona. 

She helped him pull himself to his feet and he leaned on her the whole way to the bathroom. She let him go in alone, leaning against the wall and wondering if recovery was what he wanted. After all, wasn’t she in the same situation? Or at least a similar one. And she knew what path she’d chosen. 

Solona exhaled in annoyance. She thought she wanted what every other Warden did - a good death, a death hard-fought, to take down as many Darkspawn as possible. But reflecting on what choice Cullen would make for himself in this situation made her reconsider. Even if the process was unpleasant and painful, was there something on the other side to make it worthwhile?

The door opened, and Cullen looked at her, leaning against the doorframe. “I want to shave.” 

Eying his jawline, she had to admit, her beard trim hadn’t been all the great. And the days and days of him sleeping had led to the beginnings of another beard. 

“I have supplies for you,” she said, “Do you think… Do you want to do it, or would you like me to help you?”

Cullen frowned, and she could tell he didn’t like that she’d asked. “I’ll do it,” he said. She turned to get the supplies, and he added, “But don’t -. Stay. And watch me.” 

Solona brought him everything he needed. His grip was still weak, and his hands had a bit of a tremor, but he was able to do it. He looked so much better clean-shaven - so much more like himself - that Solona couldn’t help but stare as he washed off the rest of the shaving soap. When he looked up at her, he gave her a smile. Her breath caught in her throat. 

“I feel better,” he said, and she smiled back. “Exhausted, but I feel…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair and frowning at her. “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t remember your name.” 

“It’s all right,” Solona said, “It’s Solona.” 

His eyes lit up briefly, but then the recognition was gone as soon as it had come. She didn’t know if that meant he didn’t connect her to the Solona he was thinking of, or if there was no more Solona in his memory for him to connect her to. Either way, he nodded. “Solona… I’ll remember.” 

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked him. Cullen shook his head. 

“No, I think I need to rest. Thank you.” 

He walked back over to the bed and put himself back under the covers. Without another word to her, he was asleep again. Solona sat down in the chair by his bedside once more, taking her knitting back up and wondering how much more he would have to go through before he came back to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

She could hear them - the soft call, urging her to join, to seek them out - 

Her throat raw from screaming, Solona bolted upright, burying her face in her hands as she tried to stifle her sobs. The dreams about the Darkspawn were getting worse, more vivid, more… Solona shivered as she pressed her face against her knees, running her hands through her hair. She couldn’t stop shaking. Even the morning light wasn’t enough to calm her down. 

Solona looked up to try to gauge the time through how light it was outside and was startled to realize Cullen was awake. He had sat on a chair across from her bedroll and was quietly staring at her. His expression was unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“I was up at dawn,” he said, by way of explanation. He continued to stare at her - it wasn’t doing much to help her nerves. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, scrubbing the tears off her face and trying to stop her hands from shaking through sheer force of will. It wasn't working. 

“Better than you, it appears,” he said, voice still emotionless, still gazing inscrutably at her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.” From his lack of response, she knew he wanted more than that. “I have nightmares, sometimes. They’re...” she exhaled. “They’re terrifying, but they’re just nightmares. I’m really fine.” Mostly the truth. No need to mention the Calling, and no need to tell him she was a Grey Warden if he didn’t remember her yet. 

Cullen nodded. Solona, still shaking, stood and walked over to Cullen. He tensed as she approached, and she stopped at a comfortable distance, looking him over. “Really, though. How are you feeling? Any fever? Chills? Headache?”

He looked up at her with a frown. “Amell,” he said, “What’s going on?”

Solona paused, not knowing what to expect from him. “What do you remember?” she asked. 

“Being with the Inquisition,” he said, closing his eyes. “I was commanding their army, though I assume Cassandra has removed me from my post. As she should have.” He looked up at her, and she could tell he was almost afraid for her to answer. “Did Leliana's letter reach you? Are we with the Inquisition now?” 

Solona shook her head. “I didn’t get any letters. We’re on the border of Ferelden and Orlais, in an inn.” His gaze turned sharper. 

“I had a feeling. I don't recognize this room, or the town. You’ve never been with the Inquisition, then?” he asked. Solona shook her head and he frowned at her. “How are we traveling together?”

“We’re not,” Solona explained, seating herself next to him on the other chair. “I came to this town on some Warden business and I found you. You didn’t know who I was, and you were disoriented. You couldn’t tell me what happened to you.” 

Cullen was silent. He looked torn. Then he said, “I need you to be completely honest with me, Amell.” 

After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “You were on the streets. I think… I think you’d been living there. I don’t know for how long.” 

“So your finding me was entirely coincidence?” he asked, voice full of doubt. 

“I know it sounds unbelievable,” Solona acknowledged, lightly rubbing her arms - she was still shaking a little, and she still had goosebumps. “I honestly didn’t believe it was you, at first.”

“Mm,” Cullen said, retreating into his own thoughts. He closed his eyes, and Solona stayed silent and let him process. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at her. “You have to understand... Having no memory of where I previously was, or how I arrived here, with you as my only companion… After you’ve been missing for ten years… It’s hard to believe this is reality. It’s exactly like...” He trailed off and looked at the ground.

Realization hit her in full force, and her gasp drew his gaze. 

“Maker, Cullen, I didn’t even think - I’m so sorry. I… Whatever you need me to do to prove I’m real, I’ll do it. Or I can leave if you want, go take a walk for a bit,” Solona said, guilt eating away at her. How had she not realized what a problem this could be?

He shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he smiled warily at her. “No need. I’m in enough pain to recognize this as reality.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “The symptoms you described. They’re the symptoms of Lyrium addiction.”

Solona nodded. “And now you’re going through Lyrium withdrawal, as well. I haven’t given you any. Unless you want -”

“No,” Cullen said, cutting her off before she could finish her thought. “No. I had wanted to stop, but the Inquisition…” He shut his eyes. “The fate of Thedas was more important.” Cullen exhaled heavily and looked back at her. “Now, though… I suppose it doesn’t matter what I do.” 

Solona nodded. She could relate. “You can just focus on trying to recover. I’ve been doing what I can to help you through. I haven’t been taking Lyrium, so the healing is slower going than I’d like, but the literature is really hopeful about your recovery.” 

“The literature?” he asked, amused and almost teasing her. “You’ve been doing research?”

“Not really,” she said, feeling herself blush. “There’s a woman who works for the inn, she was fetching supplies for me since I couldn’t leave the room. I asked for any information she could find on healing Lyrium addiction.” 

Cullen frowned. “You haven’t been able to leave this room? Amell, I can’t ask… you’ve done so much for me already. I can’t ask you to do this for me.” 

She smiled brightly, praying for both their sakes he didn’t really mean it. “Luckily for both of us, the Warden business that brought me here isn’t particularly pleasant or time sensitive. And since I don’t want to do it, and don’t have to do it any time soon, I’d honestly rather be here for as long as you’ll have me.” 

Something about what she said made Cullen frown, but he nodded. “I… would like that,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze. “Amell, I need to apologize to you. The things I said to you at the tower - they were unworthy. You were, and are, a hero. You saved me. Twice, now. I am sorry for the way I treated you.” 

Solona was silent for a moment, watching him as he looked up to gauge her response. Gently, she said, “You don’t have to apologize to me, I understand why you acted the way you did. But… I do appreciate it.” 

“I promise I will do what I can to repay you,” he said, and she pressed her lips together to hide her bitter smile. He wouldn’t get a chance to, she didn’t think. 

“All you need to worry about right now is recovering,” Solona said, curling her legs up underneath her. “Do you want me to go downstairs and get you something to eat?”

“No,” Cullen said, “I don’t know how long I’ll be myself. I don’t…” He stopped. “Just stay with me?”

Solona nodded, shifting in her seat. “You know, you never answered me before. How are you feeling?” she asked. 

“In pain,” Cullen said, “But otherwise I feel well.” 

Solona hesitated, but asked, “I can heal you, if you want. It will help the pain, and I think it’s making a difference for the memory loss.”

“Please,” he said wearily. Solona rose from her seat and stood before him, hands slightly above his head rather than touching him. He chuckled, a little, and added, “It’s alright.” Feeling a little embarrassed that he’d noticed, she gently placed her hands on his head and closed her eyes as she called her magic. She could feel the places where he was fragmented, scarred by lyrium, but she was beginning to feel rifts closing, to feel him becoming whole. It was promising.

Solona dropped her hands as the glow of magic faded away and she looked down at Cullen. He didn’t notice, his head tilted back and eyes closed in pleasure. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared. When she knew him, he’d been awkward and sweet. Now, he looked… Too embarrassed at herself to finish the thought, she crossed back over to her chair and prayed to the Maker he hadn’t noticed. 

It looked like he hadn’t, as, with his eyes still closed, he murmured, “It’s good to know you’re still a skilled healer.” 

His voice being set so low sent a pleasant shiver through her, and Solona cleared her throat before replying, “I’ve found people are more likely to listen to a mage Commander when they know she’s the best thing they’ve got to cure their wounds.” 

Cullen chuckled and finally opened his eyes. He looked so normal, so content, and Solona smiled. “It’s a good strategy. Sadly not one I could steal from you.” 

“Don’t be so hasty,” she replied, “You could take to carrying a bag full of poultices.”

He laughed, and Solona’s grin widened. 

“Something to consider, certainly,” he said, watching her fondly. 

They sat in silence, and Solona hesitantly said, “Cullen, can I ask you a question?”

“You’re wondering why I'm taking this so well?” He asked. Solona must have looked as surprised as she felt, because he continued, “I have tried to stop taking Lyrium in the past. The Inquisitor… She told me I had to continue taking it. From that moment, I resigned myself to this. I… I don't know how much you've heard since you've been away. I assume you’ve heard nothing of what happened in Kirkwall?”

Solona’s face darkened. “I heard enough.”

Cullen nodded. “Then you know that I was there?”

Startled, Solona tried to backpedal. “No, I hadn't - I didn't know. Maker. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” he replied, “What happened was as much my fault as anyone else’s.”

“What?” Solona asked. 

“I was Knight-Captain. I saw relations souring between the mages and the templars, saw the templars commit atrocities that I should have stopped. It doesn't matter that I wasn't in command - I should have done my duty and stepped in sooner. I… I was willing to continue the Lyrium because I knew I could do good work with the Inquisition. I considered my inevitable madness penance. The Maker’s price for my atonement. But…” Cullen looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you’re here, and caring for me… perhaps the Maker has other plans for me.” 

Solona didn't know what to say. 

“I apologize,” Cullen said. “That was…” he cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could talk about something else.”

She nodded, wanting to say something to him but not knowing where to begin. “How did you join the Inquisition?” She asked instead. 

Cullen relaxed and began to tell her the story. She could tell he was relieved to talk about something else - something normal. It wasn’t until much later - after he’d finished telling her about his arrival to Haven and needed to rest - that Solona let herself ponder what he said. 

Wardens didn’t get happy endings. Solona would carry the weight of the people she’d lost with her until an ugly, anonymous death claimed her. 

But… Cullen had thought the same for himself. And, perhaps, once this was over, and he was better, he could have a life. Could go back to the Inquisition (if it was still around - Solona made a mental note to asking Harding to look into that for her), or a family, if he had one. 

She watched him sleep, thoughts restless, praying that maybe they did have the Maker on their side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Right now my update schedule is "one a week until we're done", probably on Sunday or Monday. I didn't realize how slow burn this would be but it is turning out to be much longer than I thought. Right now I think I'm aiming for 11/12 chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

The next time he woke up, later that afternoon, he wasn’t himself. Solona could tell immediately. She had known it wouldn’t be that easy, that he’d be himself once and be cured completely, but she really had hoped. She couldn’t deny the sting of disappointment in herself as a healer. For the first time, he looked truly paranoid, staring around the room in confusion. His gaze settled on her and he glared. 

“What - where am I?” he demanded. 

“An inn on the border of Orlais and Ferelden,” Solona said, steeling herself for whatever was about to happen. “How are you feeling?”

“This isn’t real,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a demon.” 

Solona froze like a Halla. “Cullen -” 

“Still haunting me with Solona Amell,” he spat, face twisted and ugly. “Still, even after all these years, after my promotion to Knight-Captain -” He cut himself off and threw the covers off, standing up and approaching her. Solona scrambled out of the chair, putting it between them. She didn’t have her staff on her and she wouldn’t be able to reach it easily. He was still too thin to pose much of a threat to her, but Cullen had height on her, if it came to that.

Solona mentally cursed herself as they stared one another down. She should’ve been trying harder to find another caretaker, should have talked with him about the possibility that he would think it was sometime right after the circle fell. Should have realized this even was a possibility. 

“Cullen, listen -” she said, feeling sick. 

“How stupid do you think I am?” he asked, “Begone, demon.” 

Solona licked her lips nervously. “Cullen, I swear, I understand why you don’t trust me -”

“Spoken like a demon,” he viciously replied. “You really think you could use her to tempt me after the things she's done? I've heard the rumors. Making a warden King, just to be his whore -”

Solona’s face flushed with shame and anger. “I suggest you stop before you say something you regret,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. He wasn't him, this was ten years past, he would never say this to her now -

“Pretending to have emotions,” he continued. “It's a clever tactic, but it won't work. Her suffering means nothing to me anymore. Letting Kinloch Hold fall, seducing the king to influence the throne -”

“Shut up!” She said, instantly regretting snapping. She wished she had more composure than this, but Maker. Was this what he thought of her? These rumors were nothing new, but to hear them coming from him… She exhaled slowly. “Maker’s breath. I'm sorry, this isn't getting us anywhere. I really am me.”

“Where’s my sword?” he demanded, ignoring her. 

“There isn’t a sword in this room,” she said, truthfully. Cullen glared. He gestured, and Solona felt her already depleted mana reserves disappear. Still had his templar abilities, indeed.

“Where are we really, demon? Has Kirkwall’s circle fallen the way Kinloch did?”

“Cullen,” she said, voice low and placating, “It really is me, it… Maker, I can’t think of a way to convince you…”

“Stop talking,” he demanded, and she stopped. “It isn’t you - her. It isn’t Amell. She’s dead, or missing, or… You’re a demon.” 

She didn’t reply, knowing she had no way to reason with him. He groaned in pain, a hand clutching his head. “This feels like lyrium withdrawal. Why do I have lyrium withdrawal?”

Solona held her tongue. He stared at her. “You have lyrium.” 

“I don’t,” she said, truthfully. She had kept her word; she hadn’t taken lyrium in over a week, now. “You told me not to let you have any, so I haven't been keeping any on me.”

Cullen stared at her, uneasy. He shifted his weight. “This… except the withdrawals, it doesn't feel like the time at the tower.”

“It's not,” Solona said, “You…” she trailed off, not sure if the truth would be the right thing here. She wasn't supposed to correct him about what year it was or tell him about his memory loss, but there wasn’t really advice for ‘if your charge is cognizant that something is wrong and thinks you’re a demon, as he was tortured by them wearing your face, here's how to handle it’. She decided honesty would make her seem the least like a demon and most like herself. “It's years later than you think it is. You were in the final stages of lyrium addiction. Are. I've been caring for you. That’s why you don’t have a sword, and why I haven’t been taking lyrium, or keeping it in this room.”

Cullen was silent. He shut his eyes. It seemed like he was trying to will himself to wake up. Cullen mouthed something - it looked like a prayer - before opening his eyes. He seemed put out that she was still there. “How can I know you're really her?”

“I don't know,” Solona answered. “If it helps, I'm not asking you to do anything. It's okay if you don't trust me.”

“Tell me a memory only you and I remember,” he demanded, and Solona frowned. 

“Cullen, we both know that won’t do anything to convince you,” Solona said, feeling almost exasperated. Even with no mana, she wasn’t afraid of him; even with how vicious he was earlier, she could tell he was more scared than anything. He wouldn’t hurt her. At least, not right now. He already seemed to be regretting what he had said to her. About her. 

“I’ll decide what can convince me, demon.” Cullen watched her expectantly, but his voice was condescending rather than venomous. Progress. 

Solona rolled her eyes. They both knew perfectly well a demon could pluck a memory from him; she didn’t know what he was trying to achieve here, but decided the least she could do was play along. 

“Alright, how about… the first time you caught me after hours in the library. You had just started at the circle the day before, which is really a testament to how often I broke that rule. Do you remember, I was sitting under a table behind a pile of books? You brought me to Irving’s office at midnight, and he told you he'd deal with me and thanked you. You left then.”

“I did,” Cullen replied, tone still careful. His body relaxed from the fighting stance he had taken, though he still looked guarded. 

“Irving spent an hour lecturing me on staying out of the way of the new templars,” She said with a wry grin, knowing she was making progress now. “Told me to pretend I hadn’t noticed it was curfew next time. I didn’t get in a bit of trouble for actually breaking curfew.”

“Greagoir told me that was probably what happened. He told me to be careful around you,” Cullen said. His words were measured. She was really winning him over, finally. “Said you were Irving’s favorite. More of a daughter than an apprentice.”

Solona smiled sadly. She had loved Irving. “Irving said Greagoir felt the same about you. Not that night of course, it wasn't when you were first sent here. But you grew on him.”

Comprehension dawned on Cullen’s face. “That's why he was always so hard on you.”

Solona blinked. “Because Irving let me get away with so much?”

“Because of me,” Cullen said. “Because of that stupid -” he cut himself off, running a hand through his hair and staring at her. “This is really happening, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Though, again, I have no idea what this did for you.”

“You're… you. You rolled your eyes when I made an unreasonable request. You chose one of the most neutral memories we have of the two of us, didn't romanticize it. And you're questioning my decision now,” Cullen explained, “The demons never got that side of you. It was always… helpless, appealing to me to protect it, or lascivious. It never pointed out when I was doing something foolish.” She had always known he was smart, but Solona was beginning to suspect his survival at the tower had at least as much to do with his strategic brilliance as his faith. No wonder he had been in command of an army. He paused, then sat heavily on the side of the bed. “Are we - why is it you? Why are you caring for me?”

Solona really, really did not want to answer. How many times would she have to tell him what happened to him?

“Amell,” he said, voice breaking, and she knew she couldn't break his trust now. 

“I found you. We hadn't actually seen one another in years.”

“Because you went missing,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. 

“I knew where I was the whole time,” she said, and he actually half-smiled. She continued, wanting to get a real smile from him. “But, yes, the rest of Thedas had no idea where I was. They still don't, actually. I suppose I'll just die in obscurity, and then whatever happened to Warden-Commander Solona Amell will remain a mystery.”

“So that's why we're in Ferelden. Well. Why you're in Ferelden. You think you're dying,” Cullen said, watching her carefully.

Solona froze. Of course he could read her. On the bright side, they way he'd outplayed her seemed to calm him down completely. 

“What in the Maker’s name is going on with you, Amell?” He asked. 

She had to remember - the state he was in now must have been soon after the tower. She didn’t know anything of his whereabouts firsthand, but she and Greagoir had a kind of understanding when it came to Cullen. They had a shared sense of guilt, both silently thinking they were the one responsible for what had happened to him, and Greagoir had no problem keeping her informed of Cullen’s state, both at the tower and when he went to Greenfell. Greagoir had been surprisingly kind when describing Cullen’s mental state, and she had a feeling he’d left out a lot of Cullen’s antipathy towards her. But it had to be there, and she had to keep that in mind now. Even if she had won him over, he certainly didn’t trust her. 

Solona bit her lip, thinking about what the best thing to do would be. He had no memory of thinking she was an apprentice again - perhaps he'd have no memory of this. And if he did… Well, it wasn’t something she’d be able to hide from him forever. 

“Wardens…” she stopped. Tried again. “Wardens have something sort of like lyrium addiction, only there’s no way to prevent it or cure it. It's worse than death, so we make sure we die in battle before it can claim us. And we know when it's coming. I… if it weren't for you, Cullen, I'd already be dead. As it is, I'm living on borrowed time to see you well.”

He was silent for a minute, absorbing that. 

Then: “You think I won't remember this,” he said, and her smile was bitter. 

“It's spooky, how well you know me,” she replied. 

“But you're alone. You and the king -” Cullen stopped himself, had the decency to look ashamed, but Solona knew what he was asking. 

“No,” she said, frowning. “Despite those rumors, Alistair and I…” she trailed off. “We were together during the Blight, that part is true. But the moment he was made king at the landsmeet, he ended our relationship. He…” her face burned, and she desperately wished she could crawl into a hole rather than relive this. “Well, he’s the king. We aren't traveling companions anymore. We still spoke, but…” Solona swallowed hard, looking away from Cullen as she tried to stop her tears. “Oh, Maker’s breath.”

“I'm sorry,” Cullen said. She looked over to see him staring determinedly at the wall behind her. “I… that was… unkind of me.”

Solona couldn't stop a short burst of laughter; it was such an understatement it was comical. Cullen frowned, his eyes flicking to her before staring back at the wall. 

“More than unkind. Many of the Ferelden refugees at Kirkwall have personal stories of you. Meeting you, how you helped them with coin or supplies. You're a hero, to them. I overreacted.”

Solona shook her head. “I should have known this would be a possibility. I'm sorry I didn't know how to handle this.”

Cullen finally looked at her. He asked, “How far into the future is it?” 

Solona sighed. “What year do you think it is right now?”

“9:32 Dragon,” he said, and Solona exhaled again. 

“Nine or ten years,” she told him, and he stared. 

“Maker…” he shut his eyes. “You aren't supposed to tell me what year it is.”

“I know,” Solona said. “I thought I'd make an exception, since our situation is so… unique.”

“Kind of you,” Cullen said, and Solona snorted. 

They lapsed into silence. 

“Amell… tell me the truth.” He stopped until she nodded, and he continued. “Are we in a relationship?”

She could feel the heat rise to her face, and saw Cullen studying her to gauge her reaction. “No,” she said, hands gripping at the back of the chair. “We’re not. I am honestly just helping you recover.” 

“And once I’m well, you’ll go off to your death,” he said, and she nodded. “And you, of course, will not tell me that’s what you're going to do.”

“That's the plan,” Solona said, settling back into the chair across from him. 

“I'm not Knight-Captain of Kirkwall anymore, am I?” he asked. 

“No,” Solona said. 

“What was I doing?” He asked. 

“No, I meant you're not coming with me,” she said. 

Cullen stood and walked over to the window. He stared out for a moment before adding, “You can't stop me, if I decide to follow.”

“Hence why I'm not telling you about my Calling,” Solona said. “Maker, I need to be more careful around you. For you, right now, it feels like we’ve just seen each other, but I’d forgotten…” 

Voice full of irony, Cullen asked, “You’d forgotten what happened between us?”

Solona’s face twisted into a smile that felt awful. “No, of course not. Out of all the failures I’ve had since becoming a warden, what happened at the tower… What happened to you was the worst. But I’d forgotten you. As Cullen. As the templar who used to watch me study, and listened to me complain about Anders.” She stopped, thanking the Maker that he had no memory of Kirkwall’s chantry exploding because, hey, wouldn’t that be a great thing to bring up while he hated her. “You’re much too clever for me to be dropping hints about my impending demise.”

Cullen snorted and stared back out the window. “What if I don’t forget this conversation?” he asked. Solona bit her lip. 

“I… honestly don’t know. I’m sort of counting on the fact that you’ll forget,” she said truthfully. “I can’t bring you with me to the Deep Roads.” 

“Of course you can,” Cullen said, leaning against the window frame. He crossed his arms as he watched her. 

“Well, I won’t,” she said. “It’s awful down there. I hate the thought that other Wardens have to go down there, I would never drag you along.” Solona couldn’t help but shudder. “There’s no sun, or fresh air… it’s like a prison, even without the darkspawn, and even without going down there knowing one of you won’t be coming back.” 

Cullen turned back around to look out the window. “When’s the last time I left this room?” he asked her. Solona frowned. 

“I found you a week ago; you haven’t been outside since then. You haven’t really been awake, either.” 

“Let’s go for a walk, then,” he said. “I need to get outside.” 

Solona worried her lip between her teeth. Slowly, she said, “I’d feel more comfortable with that if I could bring my staff -”

“That’s fine,” he said, striding over to the door. “I think we’ve pretty well established that you aren’t a demon.” 

“I’m glad,” she said, only slightly sarcastically. 

The two took their walk in silence. All things considered, Solona thought, she’d handled this fairly well. 

It wasn’t until they were back in the room, and Cullen had gone back to sleep, that Solona realized he’d only requested to go outside because of her mention of claustrophobia. Andraste help her, she wished she understood him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> I promise we'll get to actual shipping soon! Just needed some good, good angst first.


	6. Chapter 6

A gentle hand on her shoulder roused Solona - she kept her eyes shut, not wanting to wake. The sun wasn’t up yet, she was having the most restful sleep of her life, and everyone who traveled with her knew not to wake her pre-dawn unless someone was dying. 

Softly, a voice said, “Take the bed.” 

Eyes still shut, brain not processing, Solona mumbled a noise that she figured would probably be taken as a thanks. The voice chuckled as she flopped over from her chair onto the bed, pulling the covers over herself and promptly falling back asleep. 

Maker knew when later, Solona woke. The bed was so warm, and comfortable, and it smelled so incredibly familiar. Sort of like home. Unconsciously, Solona pressed her face into the pillow and breathed, relaxing until her brain realized that smell was Cullen, and reminded her why she was in a bed that smelled like Cullen, and she sat straight up, looking around and praying he hadn’t noticed her creepily sniffing his pillow. The room looked empty. Her heart stopped, and she climbed out of the bed. 

Cautiously, her gaze swept the room and she found nothing. She peeked around the corner, shoulders relaxing as she saw him sitting in a chair, thumbing through her copy of “Hard in Hightown”. 

“Good morning,” she greeted him, still half-standing behind the partition. He looked up and smiled. 

“Good morning,” he returned. He held up the book. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to wake you.” 

Solona shook her head, taking a seat next to him. “No, I don’t mind at all. I’m sorry I left you in here with nothing to do. I don't suppose you wanted to do some knitting on that scarf I’ve been working on?” 

Cullen shook his head, a small smile on his face. “You know,” he said, voice so full of affection Solona’s heart skipped a beat, “I wondered how years of being a war hero would have changed you, and I’m somehow not at all surprised to see that you’re still the same woman you used to be.” Solona didn’t know what to make of that, and she didn’t reply, so Cullen continued, “Are you a fan?”, holding up the copy of her book. 

“It’s a good book,” Solona said, “But I'm not fond of the ending. It’s like Tethras didn’t even finish the story.”

“There are more chapters,” Cullen advised her. Solona huffed, feeling indignant.

“Of course there are. This is what I get for looting my books out of the Deep Roads instead of buying them like a person.”

He actually laughed at that, and Solona relaxed. It was good to see him so normal. She could ask later, about what to do if they had a repeat of last night. “Are you hungry?” She asked. 

“Ravenous,” Cullen replied. 

“Good. I’m glad you have an appetite. Do you want me to bring something up, or…?”

Cullen leaned forward, resting her book on the small table. “I’m sure this is a smaller town, but perhaps we could see what we can find elsewhere? I think we both need to leave this room for a bit.” 

“We passed another inn last night, they may have something different,” Solona offered, realizing her mistake as soon as she spoke. Cullen looked puzzled. 

“I don’t remember anything from last night,” he said, “I assumed I had slept through the evening…” Solona bit her lip, and Cullen’s eyes flicked briefly down before meeting her gaze again. “What happened?” he asked. Solona couldn’t quite find her voice, and Cullen shut his eyes. “I wasn’t myself again.” 

“No,” Solona said, surprised to hear her voice crack with emotion. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “You thought I was - I mean, it was -”

“I thought you were a demon,” he supplied, looking serious. Solona nodded, not trusting her own voice. “I am so sorry. I didn’t… did I hurt you?” She shook her head. Cullen continued to frown. “I said something, though. Amell, whatever it was - I am sorry. If you want me to explain myself, I will. But there is no excuse. Others were worse off than me in that tower, and none let it control them the way I did.” 

Solona bit her lip, the regret and sorrow on Cullen’s face stirring something in her she hadn’t felt in years. “Don’t apologize,” she said, “I knew you wouldn’t say those things to me now. I just… I’ve heard those things about myself before. Just never coming from someone who actually knew me.” 

Cullen looked so apologetic she almost apologized for bringing it up. “I never believed those things. Even when I was my worst, I still knew…” Cullen trailed off, looking at her with such an intense sincerity she got goosebumps. “I’ve always admired you, Amell.” 

She swallowed, hard, and smiled. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that “admired” was the word he chose. “I’m glad to hear it. We should head out before we miss any chance at getting something to eat. It looks like I slept past noon - thank you, by the way, for indulging my laziness. I’m glad none of the stories about me talked about how I could sleep through a Darkspawn attack.” She wondered briefly when she’d stolen the “deflect serious moments with humor” tactic from Alistair, but she couldn’t deny it worked. Cullen smiled softly. 

“I apologize. I really didn’t want to wake you. Did you know you snore?”

“I do not,” Solona protested, feeling herself go pink. “Unless… Oh, Maker, do I snore when I’m sleeping in a chair? I’ve never slept in chairs before.”

Cullen laughed, holding the door open for her and making another quip as he followed her down the hall. 

He looked different now, older, with a new scar and his hair much blonder, but when he smiled at her with those golden eyes her heart fluttered exactly the way it had when she was a new apprentice and he was shyly stuttering his way through a conversation with her. 

She still loved him. 

Or, no, still wasn’t the right word. She had been infatuated with him, but she’d never allowed herself to love him. Living in the tower as a child, Solona loved rules, loved the adulation and privileges she got for following them, and so she’d never entertained the thought that something would ever truly happen between them. She could look, and appreciate him, but she’d never loved him. 

She had thought about it, once Duncan took her from the tower. She’d actually asked Duncan all sorts of inappropriate questions, about if Wardens could get married and if she’d be allowed to have children. She understood, now, why he hadn’t answered her questions then, but all it had done was let her imagination go wild. It was embarrassing, thinking about how many times she’d imagined how she’d confess her feelings to Cullen the next time she saw him.

And then… Uldred happened, and from the way Cullen spoke to her, she had no illusions about what would happen between them. But then Alistair had comforted her, and things had blossomed between the two of them quickly, and she hadn’t forgotten Cullen, but her feelings had faded. She certainly never expected to see him again, especially not like this. 

A small, selfish part of her wished Cullen had said he felt something stronger than admiring her. The part of her that was still a good person was relieved he hadn’t. The Calling would claim her soon enough, and it would be selfish of her to take solace in him, only to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've outlined the rest of the fic! Starting next chapter I'm officially pretending Trespasser never happened, and that this fic picks up from the end of Inquisition. We're looking at ~13 chapters total, possibly more. Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

It was the third day Cullen was himself again, and Solona was feeling cautiously optimistic. It seemed so was Cullen. He sat next to her as she was finishing a letter, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Do you have any extra vellum?” he asked, and Solona nodded, putting her letter to the side to dry and digging out some spare for him. “Thank you. I’d like to write a letter to my family,” he explained, “Let them know I’m alive.” 

Rather than blurting out _I didn’t even know you had a family_ , Solona nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I’m sure they’ll be relieved to hear from you. Where are you from?”

“They’re in South Reach now,” Cullen said, attention on the vellum, “But we’re originally from Honnleath.”

“I was in Honnleath during the Blight,” Solona said, surprised. “I might have met your family.” 

“You did,” Cullen said, glancing up from his work to smile at her, “My sister wrote to me and told me of the Grey Warden who saved them after the village was overrun with darkspawn. She didn’t know it was you - or, rather, that we were acquainted, but her description - I knew it had to be you. I have to admit, I always wondered why you took the golem with you…” 

“Shale was lovely,” Solona said, waving her hand in dismissal. She remembered what Shale had said about the children of that village and briefly wondered if Cullen was one of them. Maker, she hoped not. “I’ve found that you just have to give people a chance. They want to do good. You just have to help them see what that is.” 

“So rehabilitating wayward transgressors is just a thing you do, then?” he asked, looking unsure even as his voice attempted humor, and she laughed. 

“Maker, you sound like Alistair. You should’ve seen his face after I told Zevran he could stay with us.” 

“Zevran?” Cullen asked, and Solona grinned. 

“Antivan Crow. Loghain hired him to assassinate me, and when that failed I let him come with us.” 

Cullen stared at her. Solona shifted uncomfortably, grin fading as she wondered what about her attempt at humor hadn’t struck a chord with him. 

“Um, what?” she asked, unable to bear his aghast look any longer. 

“That was true?” Cullen asked. “I thought at least some of the stories of your adventures during the Blight had been exaggerated, but… you actually took in an assassin after he tried to kill you?”

“Well, he promised he wouldn’t do it again,” Solona said with a fake pout, half teasing him and half trying to justify herself. Zevran had been loyal beyond compare and one of her closest friends during the Blight, even if Alistair still hadn’t warmed up to him. 

Cullen shook his head. “Your capacity for forgiveness is…” he exhaled, and turned his gaze on her. Solona couldn’t read him, but the weight of his stare made her stop breathing for a moment. He seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say, and instead just said, “I'll just be a moment writing this. Is there regular post here?”

Solona shrugged. “Not sure. I haven’t sent any of the letters I’ve written yet. I'll just give it to Harding, I'm sure she'll be able to get it there.”

Cullen stared at her, all pretense of writing forgotten. “To whom?”

“Uh, Harding. The woman who's been bringing me supplies.” Solona said, shifting uneasily. 

“Dwarven woman, scar on her face, freckles?” He asked, and she nodded, speechless. “What did she tell you about her presence here?”

“That she works for this inn,” Solona said. Cullen exhaled, and Solona added, “Which I am now realizing was clearly a lie.” Cullen grinned wryly at her. 

“Had you heard anything of the inquisition?” Cullen asked. 

“Alistair wanted me to go there as an envoy.” Solona shifted guiltily. “I, um. I may not have been in a receptive mood.”

She could tell from the look on Cullen’s face that he wanted to know more and tried to make a mental note not to let him pry it out of her later. 

“Scout Harding is an agent of the Inquisition,” Cullen explained, “I assume sent here for me.”

“Shit,” Solona said, and the look on Cullen’s face almost made her laugh. He’d known her for nearly half her life, now, and he’d never heard her curse before. He looked like a scandalized Chantry boy. “I’m sorry, Cullen, I should have realized -” 

“No apology needed. Harding is one of our best people. If she’s the one they sent, I’m sure it was with good intentions.” Cullen looked thoughtfully at the vellum on the table. “Allow me a moment to write this, and then I’d like you to bring me to her.” 

“Of course,” Solona said, getting up to offer him some privacy. 

His letter didn’t take long to write - Solona had a feeling it probably consisted of the words “I am alive. Love, Cullen” - before he rolled it up and let her know he was ready. Solona led him down the stairs and to the tavern below, where she found Harding at a table going through some papers. The dwarf stopped and looked at Solona before noticing Cullen at her side. 

“Glad to see you, Commander,” greeted Harding, both cheerful and cautious, gesturing for them to join her at the table. 

“Are you?” Cullen asked, and Solona watched him quietly. He was like a different person - serious and commanding. She couldn’t deny that she liked it.

“I really am,” Harding said, voice sincere, “Once things settled down, Cassandra realized no one heard from you since you left. They sent me and a few others out to go look for you. When I reported back…” Harding trailed off. “I reported back your condition, and that you had a mage looking after you, they told me to stick around and keep an eye on things. The Inquisitor… She feels awful.” 

“The choice was not hers alone,” Cullen said, his voice even. Solona could hear the edge to it, and gently pressed her leg against his under the table. It was thoughtless, a gesture meant for comfort, and she regretted it almost as soon as she’d done it. What would he think? Before she could move away, he rested his hand on her knee, gently squeezing in thanks before withdrawing. Solona was relieved, moving over on the bench so there was room between them again. 

“I know, but she said she didn’t know what Lyrium would do to you. Said if she knew, she would never have told you to keep taking it. She wants to make it up to you now, however she can. She asked that when you were well enough to travel I bring you back to Skyhold.” 

Cullen sat, quietly. He seemed to be thinking it over. Then, to Solona’s surprise, he turned to her. “Would you come with me?” he asked, and Solona blinked. 

“What?”

“Would you come with me? I don’t... “ He trailed off, and both women watched as he gathered his thoughts. “I know I have no right to ask anything else of you, and it is a selfish request. But I… would prefer it if you came. If nothing else, to begin to repay my debt to you.” 

“You know you don’t owe me anything, Cullen,” she said, voice low, hands gripping the edge of the bench they sat on. 

Gently, Cullen rested his hand on top of hers. He lightly caressed her knuckles with a calloused thumb. “Please,” he said, voice pitched lower, gaze so earnest Solona knew she couldn’t say no. She bit her lip and nodded, not trusting her voice. Cullen visibly relaxed, and gave her hand a light squeeze before resting both his hands on the table and turning his attention back to a very interested Harding. 

“Then we’ll leave tomorrow. I’d like you to send out a letter for me, first,” he said, handing his letter to Harding, who smiled. “It’s for Mia.” 

“Absolutely. Pigeon post’ll have it there in no time. Oh, and, uh, Warden-Commander…” Harding put a bag full of what Solona assumed to be her coin on the table. “The Inquisition has been funding everything. They didn’t want you to know until you realized I was with them, but here’s your coin back. As long as you’re under our protection, you don’t have to worry about anything.” 

“Fabulous,” Solona said, trying to keep the sarcastic edge out of her voice. It wouldn’t do to let them know coin didn’t mean anything to her anymore, since then she’d have to explain why, and this impromptu trip to Skyhold was already enough of a complication in her plan of dying anonymously. “So you know who I am, then?”

Harding grinned, and Solona had to admit it was infectious. “Of course I do. A Ferelden Grey Warden, who knew Cullen at Kinloch Hold? A mage selflessly helping a templar? The name Leliana Araiani? You could do better than that if you wanted to stay hidden, Hero.” 

Solona exhaled in annoyance, and Cullen actually laughed. She mock-pouted at him, and he grinned down at her, that fond look he gave her filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years. Solona rolled her eyes, feeling much more good-natured than she expected. Her rogue friends had always warned her she was much worse at deception than she thought. “Oh, Andraste take it. You may as well call me Solona, then.” 

“All right, Solona. Stay for a drink?” Harding asked, and Cullen looked to Solona for an answer. 

“Sure,” she said, “We had to get out of that room sometime.” 

Cullen smiled, and Solona looked up at him, remembering for the first time since Amaranthine what it was like to have friends.


	8. Chapter 8

A better woman than Solona would not have gotten herself into this situation. 

Solona sat vigil next to a sleeping Cullen in the pre-dawn hours, letting her magic gently wash over him when her mana regenerated but otherwise sitting and thinking. 

He was beautiful when he slept - when he was awake, too, but there was too much history between them for him to be so relaxed. She knew the kindness and deference he showed her now was the result of the distance between them. He wasn’t himself, when he was with her now. In the dreamless sleep her magic afforded him, however, he looked peaceful. Solona was too tired from another sleepless night to care if he caught her staring at him, and she wasn’t really looking at him anymore besides. Her thoughts strayed from the man before her to her Calling. It was getting to be a pressing issue. 

The Hero of Ferelden would’ve handed her stack of goodbye letters to Harding to send out, said goodbye to Cullen with a wave and a smile, and been on her merry way to the Deep Roads the moment she knew he was safe. 

Solona Amell was not so selfless. 

Granted, she was the Hero of Ferelden, but some days it felt like the girl who’d slain an archdemon was a different person. That part of her life was years past, and while the work with the Wardens she’d done since was no less important, it was far less glorious. She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the attention and adulation, which made her feel like she had never deserved it in the first place.

Solona snorted, scrubbing at her face with her hands and wondering when she’d let herself get so maudlin. Alistair had called her out on it (less eloquently and more… Alistair-y), and even though his face said he regretted it the instant he said it, he’d been right. She hadn’t given him time to apologize before she left Denerim.

His letter was the longest. 

She sighed, drawing her legs up onto the chair and resting her cheek on the back of her hand. Going to the Inquisition was only going to complicate things for her - more people to leave behind, more chances someone would realize what she was trying to do. And yet now that Cullen had asked her to come, she couldn’t think of any way she’d rather be spending her last bit of time. 

“Good morning,” came a cautious voice, and Solona snapped out of her rumination to find Cullen had gotten out of bed and was watching her with concern. 

“Good night, for me,” she said with a forced smile, but her attempt at humor fell flat. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, frowning. “You’ve been staring at the wall. You didn’t even move when I woke up.”

“Just tired,” Solona said, hoping he’d fall for it. “I’ll be right as rain after a nap. You’ll make the preparations with Harding and wake me up when you’re done, right?” At Cullen’s hesitation, she said, “Promise?”

Cullen didn’t look convinced, but he did grace her with the kind of smirk that said he was willing to indulge her. It was enough. “I’ll wake you up when we’re ready to go. I promise.”

She frowned at him suspiciously, less because she didn’t believe him and more because this, at least, was a familiar script between the two of them. “You promise,” she repeated. 

“You’d better get to sleep, then,” Cullen said. “Sun will be up soon.” 

“Good night,” Solona said, rising from her chair and lying on the Andraste-blessed bed. 

Sleeping in shifts had been Cullen’s idea - she had outright refused to let Cullen sleep on the floor while he was still in recovery, and Cullen refused to be treated like her patient any longer, now that he was mostly in possession of all his mental faculties. They very nearly both spent the night on the floor, each too stubborn to submit to the other, until Solona had quietly admitted to Cullen that she had a hard time sleeping at night and would, most likely, be getting up every half hour or so anyway, so there was no point letting it go unused. 

Stubbornness gave way to understanding, and Cullen had agreed to take the bed at night so long as she tried to get a few hours of sleep in the morning. Cullen was an insufferably early riser, naturally waking up while it was still dark out. He assured her it was his typical routine; he used the time to get in some much-needed training. 

That morning, he slipped around the partition, and Solona listened to his movements, eyes closed. He’d head downstairs to meet up with their third travelling companion soon, and they should be ready to go in a matter of hours after that. 

Solona snuggled into the still-warm bed, grateful for the small comfort of a soft place to sleep. She lulled off, the scent of elderflower and oakmoss surrounding her. 

She woke on her own after a dreamless sleep, and by the position of the sun in the sky, it was nearly noon. Solona rose and peeked around the partition to find Cullen, examining some papers. He looked up and smiled at her. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him and his grin widened. It would’ve been endearing if she wasn’t so annoyed with him. 

“What happened to waking me up?” she asked. 

“Harding had some documents for me to look over,” Cullen said, gesturing to the papers on the table. “I thought it rude to wake you before I was ready.”

“Mm-hm,” Solona said, clearly disbelieving. “I’m certain they couldn’t be reviewed while we were walking.” 

“We’re not walking,” Cullen said. Solona gave him a blank look. “We’ll be riding.” 

“Riding?” Solona asked. 

“Horses,” Cullen replied, his voice dryly amused at needing to clarify that for her, and her eyes widened. “Harding assumed you didn’t have any riding clothes, so she found you an outfit. We’ll head downstairs when you’re ready.”

Their horses turned out to be three gorgeous Ferelden Forders. Solona made a soft noise of excitement as she saw the horses before them, staring up at them but not wanting to get too close. 

“What do you think?” asked Harding. 

“I love them,” Solona said, ignoring the amused looks on both Cullen’s and Harding’s faces. 

She could hear the smirk in Cullen’s voice ask he asked, “The Inquisitor didn’t want to send the riding nugs?”

Harding laughed. “No, she did, but the council thought regular mounts would be best for this trip.”

“Thank the Maker for that,” he said. 

Solona glanced back at them, and asked, “Can I pet them?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later. You ever ridden a horse before, Warden-Commander?” Harding asked. 

“No,” Solona said, turning back to them in awe and working up the courage to pet one. “Oh, Maker, but I’ve wanted to. They’re beautiful.” A thought occurred to her. “It won’t be a problem that I can’t ride, will it?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Harding said. “The first day or so is pretty easy terrain, and your horse is really well-trained. I think you’ll pick up the basics. Worst comes to worst, I’m sure our Commander wouldn’t mind taking the reins, if it comes to that.”

Solona noticed the look of warning Cullen shot the dwarf and wondered, briefly, what in the Void that could be about. Harding’s face had the look of someone pretending to be innocent. She let the moment pass without comment, instead redirecting the attention of both back to where it mattered: letting her get on a horse. 

“How do I do this?” Solona asked determinedly. 

Harding took the reins of a horse Solona assumed was hers and guided it forward. 

“You’re going to put your left foot into the stirrup, and use your arms there and there to pull yourself all the way up and over,” explained Harding. 

Solona chewed her bottom lip. “My upper body strength is not… great.”

Harding looked like Solona just handed her a wrapped gift. “Commander, mind giving her a lift?”

Though Cullen looked composed, his eyes were on the horse and not her as he approached. He grasped something in the stirrup, crouching before her. “Left foot in the stirrup,” he commanded, and his voice was oddly tight. She followed the command. Cullen paused for a second before resting a hand on the underside of her thigh. Solona’s breath caught and Harding’s expression made a lot more sense to her now. His touch was strictly professional, but his hand on her leg made her mind wander to much less professional places. He was warm, and she hadn’t been touched in ages, and - With as much will as she could muster, Solona tore her mind away from thoughts of what other things Cullen’s hands could do and focused on his voice. “On my count you’ll push up with your right leg, and I’ll, uh, boost you over.”

“Okay,” Solona said, placing her hands where Harding had told her. She wasn’t as short as a dwarf, who had mounted her own horse and was watching the two of them expectantly, but she was still short for a human. She hoped she wouldn’t be a complete disaster. She was vaguely aware of Cullen counting down as she tried not to focus on his hand tightening in preparation to lift her. 

She pushed off the ground, and tried to pull up with her arms, but it was Cullen’s assistance that got her seated astride the horse. She laughed in surprise at the feeling of being lifted, and couldn’t help but giggle as she sat atop the horse. She grinned down at Cullen, whose face was red. It made her grin wider. 

“How’d I do?” She asked. 

“Perfect.” He said, looking at her as if she were the second coming of Andraste. He cleared his throat, back to business. “Take a moment to find your balance. I’ll wait until you feel comfortable.”

“Okay,” she said. Cullen stayed by her side a minute more before mounting his own horse once she showed no sign of falling. 

“Now,” Solona said, feeling proud of herself for not falling off the horse. “How hard will it be to ride?”

It turned out to be quite easy. Her horse seemed content to walk along behind Cullen’s, which was good, as it took a lot more concentration to balance than she’d anticipated. Harding wasn’t lying when she said the horse was well-trained; literally all Solona had to do was focus on not falling.

Between her focusing on staying on her horse and trying to follow the tips she got from Cullen and Harding, the day passed quickly for Solona. 

It was just before sunset when Harding asked if they’d like to stop for the night. 

“Good a place as any to make camp,” Cullen agreed. Solona started off the side of her mount, almost afraid to get off. Cullen smoothly dismounted, then looked back up at her. “Would you like some help?”

“Yes please,” she said, staring. 

“Just do the opposite of what you did to get on. Stand up, then swing your right leg over to this side, and I’ll help you down the rest of the way,” he encouraged. She cautiously followed his instructions, and as she held herself up and panicked about what to do from there, Cullen grabbed her hips. His grip was firm, and he slowly lowered her to the ground with a controlled motion. 

Now that she was on the ground, he was close to her - Solona stood in place, not wanting to break their contact. His hands were still on her hips, immobile, and Solona had a sudden urge to turn and take his face in her hands, to pull him down towards her - 

Harding cleared her throat, and Cullen pulled his hands back as though she’d burned him. Solona turned around to see him looking away, face a fierce red. She couldn’t deny feeling relieved that their closeness had affected him, too. If things had gone differently between them in the past… But she couldn’t ask him for that now. Maker knew the last thing he needed was to think of her in that way again. 

“I’ll find us some firewood,” Cullen said, apropos of nothing and, Solona assumed, just to change the subject, and Solona frowned, the healer in her overtaking every thought the touch-and-affection starved woman was having. 

“One of the symptoms you have is spatial difficulties,” Solona said, “One of us should come with you -“

“I’ll be fine,” Cullen said, and she should have been glad he was feeling confident enough to push back against her, but she instead crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can’t know that. This is the first time you’ll be in unfamiliar territory alone.” 

“And I’ll keep myself oriented to camp,” he replied. 

Harding, to her surprise, laughed. “We know Cullen’s in good shape when he fights with his healer,” she said. “Nearly came to blows with Adan once about if he was ready to oversee training exercises. I’d let him go, Warden.”

She hesitated, but between Cullen and Harding she knew she’d lost. 

“Fine,” said Solona, “But you’d better swear before the Maker if you get lost you’ll yell for us.”

“I swear before the Maker and Andraste,” Cullen said, and he was off. 

“So,” Harding said, pulling out the necessary supplied to make camp. Solona helped her, glad she had at least one thing she was an expert in. “I didn’t realize you and Cullen had such an extensive relationship.”

“What?” Solona asked, staring at Harding. 

The dwarf grinned. “Acquaintanceship, I guess. How long did you know him for?”

“Hm,” Solona said, trying to count back the years. “I guess it was a few years? I never really bothered to keep time in the circle, unless it was my birthday or holidays. Apprentices don’t get any windows, you see, so the seasons don’t really make much of a difference for us. I probably would’ve cared once I was a fully fledged mage but…” she trailed off with a grin. “The stories are right that I left the day of my Harrowing.”

“Were you two friends? I can’t imagine what a young Cullen must have been like.”

Solona snorted. “Not really friends, no. More like… professional acquaintances who would have liked to be friends but didn’t even consider it because it wasn’t an option?” Harding raised both eyebrows at her. “Very specific, I know. We got along really well, when we did speak. But mages and templars weren’t allowed to spend much time together.”

“Did you ever think about being… friends?” Harding asked. 

“No,” she said. She paused. “Well… not until I was a warden.” Solona glanced around and, seeing no sign of Cullen coming back yet, confessed, “I spent the entire trip from Kinloch Hold to Ostagar thinking about what it would be like to go back and visit the circle after I joined the Wardens, to be able to talk to him as a free woman and not a mage.” 

She was embarrassed to admit it now, but she’d come up with a million elaborate fantasies about how she’d sweep Cullen off his feet when she returned to the tower with those stupid treaties. His feelings for her had been an open secret in the tower, but she’d been much more reserved about how she felt for him. She doubted anyone knew she returned his infatuation. Solona had imagined openly confessing to him, in front of everyone, and having him leave the Templars to join her… Stupid, now that she was old enough to realize that would never have worked. 

“What about now?” Harding pressed, finishing setting up her tent and moving on to Cullen’s. “Do you think something could happen between the two of you?”

“Something like friendship?” Solona asked dryly, wondering when her companion had dropped all pretense that she was not invested in what was going on between them. She had to admit, though, the woman knew how to extract information.

“Something like that,” Harding said with a grin. 

“No. Even if I had something… I think too much time has passed. We’re different people now, we don’t even know each other anymore. And there’s too much history there,” Solona set about making the beginnings of a fire pit, lost in her thoughts now. There was no way Cullen would want to pursue anything with her; history aside, they had no future together. She doubted she could draw this out any longer than another few months. 

Harding mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “You two are idiots,” but before Solona could ask for clarification - because _surely_ she had not heard correctly - Cullen was back with more firewood than they needed. 

“And you didn’t even have to call for help,” said Harding, “Nice work, Commander.” 

“Very funny,” he said, setting about making a fire for the night. “I see you saved me the trouble of putting up my own tent.”

Harding and Cullen lapsed into a companionable rapport, with Solona chipping in with a comment here and there as she had something to say. She sat next to the fire, legs drawn up to her chest and deeply missing her time with her companions during the Blight. Perhaps it was for the best for her to travel to Skyhold - it would be nice, to remember what it was like to be a normal person again. It had been a long time. 

A better woman than Solona would not have gotten herself into this situation, but she couldn’t deny feeling happy for the detour.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I didn't update last week - I got a new job!!! I promise by the end of this week you'll have a new, real chapter. In the meantime, however, please accept half a chapter of fluff as an apology for my delay. This is a direct continuation of last chapter.

Harding said good night and retreated to her tent; Solona remained by the fireside, staring at the flames, mind not focusing on any one thing. 

Cullen sat next to her, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

“First watch is mine,” Cullen said, “You should try to get some sleep.”

“I much prefer forlornly staring into the fire, thanks,” Solona said, and Cullen laughed. 

“You’ll take second watch, then?” he asked. She nodded. 

“No need to worry about me. Wardens don’t need as much sleep as normal people do.” 

Cullen frowned at her. “Is that actually true?” He asked. Solona grinned widely, and Cullen shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You haven’t even tried to corrige me,” she teased, and he looked down at her, lips twisting into a fond smirk. 

The two sat in companionable silence for a moment, Solona enjoying the heat from the fire and the very warm body next to her. She paused, wanting to ask Cullen a question but not certain she wanted an answer. With the kind of bravery that only comes from facing your own mortality, Solona softly asked, “Do you have children, Cullen?” still staring at the fire. She didn’t move, but she could feel him shift away to stare down at her, almost sensing how perplexed he felt. 

“What?” he asked. “I - No. Not… Not that I don’t want to. I just haven’t…” Cullen trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from her. “I’ve been more focused on work than I have on.. Any of that.” After a short pause, he asked, “Have you…?”

“I can’t,” Solona said, not looking at Cullen. She knew she’d brought it up, and she should have expected reciprocity, but… Maker, she hated talking about this. “It’s not like the tower, where it just isn’t allowed. It’s apparently very difficult for Wardens to have children. Impossible, with two Wardens. When Duncan recruited me, I had all these silly dreams of marriage and children, but me having a child isn’t any more possible now than it was when I was an apprentice in the Circle.” 

“And marriage?” Cullen asked, something unreadable in his gaze. Solona hesitated. There was a lot she could say on the subject, but Cullen didn’t need to hear any of it. 

“I… don’t think I’ll ever get married,” she said. “What about you? How’s your wife?”

“My wife?” Cullen asked, and Solona turned to look at him now. 

“The woman you wrote that letter to. Mia?”

Cullen snorted, and shook his head. “Maker, no, she’s my sister. I never married. There was never… someone.” 

“Oh,” Solona said, thoughts racing in really inappropriate ways. She had tried to be good, and it was fairly easy when she thought Cullen had someone else waiting out there for him.

The silence stretched out between them, and Solona thought she was going to go crazy if neither of them spoke, until Cullen asked, “You’re certain you don’t want to try to sleep? You could bring your bedroll out here, if you’d like. We can talk. If - if that would help.” 

Solona bit her lip, fighting with herself. It was cruel to both of them, for her to let anything happen, for her to even entertain the notion that something could be there for the very brief time they had left together, but… Maker take it, he'd understand. She leaned against his side, and to her surprise, he wrapped his arm around her, hand resting on her hip as he settled her against him. 

“I don’t think I’ll fall asleep,” she said softly, “But I’m willing to give it a try.” 

Cullen rested his cheek on the top of her head. His voice low, he murmured to her, “Would you like me to tell you about Skyhold?”

Relaxing against him, Solona agreed, eyes closed as she listened to him softly tell her about what his office at Skyhold was like. Somewhere around the description of how no one ever knocked, his thumb began to lightly trace the exposed skin on her hip between her shirt and her pants. Solona had never before been so grateful for the utility of a riding outfit. Soon she felt herself drifting off, curled up against Cullen, feeling safer and more at home than she ever had before.


	10. Chapter 10

The majority of the week passed much in the same way as the first day - with Solona doing her best to stay atop her horse, and the others leading the way. She noticed, not ungratefully, that Harding seemed to be excusing herself to leave the two of them alone an awful lot. It wasn’t as though things had progressed. Solona herself was exercising as much restraint as she could, and Cullen had yet to make any kind of move on her. 

Her problem, as always, was complacency. 

Their last night before getting to Skyhold, the three of them sat around the fire, eating and enjoying an easy conversation. Cullen had put himself next to her, and the two sat close enough to almost touch.

“You excited to get back to civilization, Warden?” asked Harding, and Solona laughed, feeling more lighthearted than she had in years. 

“I won’t lie, I’m thrilled at the prospect of a proper bath,” Solona said. “Literally the only thing I enjoyed about Vigil’s Keep was how ridiculously grandiose the baths were.”

“You mean you didn’t enjoy being Arlessa?” Cullen asked, his voice teasing. 

“Hmmm,” Solona said, pretending to consider it for a moment. “No. No, I didn’t.” She laughed, “I absolutely hated the decorum and the frivolous, giant parties.” 

Cullen and Harding exchanged a glance, and Solona frowned. “Oh, no,” she said, “What?”

“Our ambassador,” Cullen explained, “Josephine Montilyet. She’ll want to throw something in your honor, as a guest of the Inquisition.” 

“Oh, Maker, no,” Solona said, face looking horrified. 

“Don’t worry,” Cullen quickly reassured her, “If you tell her you’d prefer something small, she’ll make the arrangements. I’m certain Leliana knows your tastes well enough.” 

Solona relaxed. “Well… Okay.” She was honestly beginning to doubt herself for agreeing to this. Solona looked into the fire, ready to start brooding on the merits of leaving as soon as they got to the gates of Skyhold, when Cullen gently took her hand. He laced his fingers between hers, and she stared down at their hands pressed together before looking back up at him. 

He smiled at her, his face shy and sweet. “It will be fine,” he said, and Maker help her, his voice was intoxicating. “I promise.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, smiling up at him. Their gaze held a moment, full of a promise of - something. Solona looked away first, clearing her throat and changing the topic.

That was when she heard it. 

It was nothing, at first. Just a whisper. She frowned, stopping herself mid-sentence and glancing up at Cullen. 

“What?” Solona asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied, face puzzled. 

“Harding?” Solona asked, frowning. “I heard you, I just didn’t catch what you said.” 

“Nothing from me, Warden,” Harding said, and Solona’s breath stuck in her throat as, with both her companions looking at her in concern, she heard the whisper once more. 

She was awake. It shouldn’t be coming while she was awake. 

How much longer until the physical changes began? Until her impending death was as obvious to those looking at her as it was to her?

Stupid, to let it go this long, to have agreed to be with Cullen once he no longer needed her. But wasn’t that what she always did? Gambled with her own life to make things better for others? Solona tried not to get swept up in her own racing thoughts. 

“Sorry,” Solona said, trying to infuse her voice with a cheerfulness that sounded fake even to her. “I think it was the wind. My apologies.” She nearly missed the knowing, concerned look Cullen and Harding exchanged, but before she could protest, Harding smoothly cut in. 

“I should head out and fill up the canteens for tomorrow before sundown. I’ll be back in a bit.” She left, and Solona was grateful for the obvious distraction. She knew the woman had meant it to change the course of conversation, but it provided her with an opportunity to do what she should have done from the start. 

With Cullen still watching her in concern, Solona took her hand out of his and met his gaze. 

“I can’t go with you to Skyhold,” Solona said, voice low. “I’m sorry.” 

“What happened?” Cullen asked, treading lightly. 

“I…” Solona trailed off. “Cullen, I don’t have a choice. Please, just trust me.” 

She saw him warring with himself for a moment, before he said, “You heard something.” 

“What?” Solona asked, feeling dazed. 

“For your Calling,” Cullen said, and Solona felt like he poured a bucket of ice water over her. “It progressed, and you just heard something while you were awake.” 

“How…” she trailed off, staring at him. “You shouldn’t even know what that is!” Cullen looked too composed to be telling her that he knew she was dying, and Solona didn’t care that she was focusing on the entirely wrong part of the conversation. 

“Amell -”

“You’ve apparently learned all the Warden secrets I spent half my life protecting, let’s drop the formality,” Solona said, perfectly aware of just how acidic her voice sounded. Cullen didn’t react, and it only made her angrier. 

“Solona. We dealt with a situation at Adamant in the Inquisition. We found out about the Calling through necessity. I should have realized you didn’t know that I knew. I apologize for that. But - “

“But what?” Solona asked, staring at him. The thought that he knew what was happening to her, that he knew about the nightmares and never said a thing… She swallowed, not expecting how hurt she was at his indifference. “You knew I was dying this whole time? And you never… You didn’t say anything, Cullen. You never acted like… I’m going to die. How are you so calm about this?”

Cullen stared at her, face more serious than she’d ever seen, and he said, “You don’t have to die. We can find a cure for the Calling.” Solona stared back, feeling the blood in her veins turn to ice. “At the Inquisition, one of our agents was once a Warden. She’s a mage, like you, and from my conversations with her it seems like she’s been cured of her Calling. She wouldn’t tell me how, but if you speak with her, maybe -”

Solona cut him off, the feeling of betrayal making everything numb. “This is why you asked me to come to Skyhold with you.” The silent 'I thought you wanted me with you' hung between them. 

“I admit, I had an ulterior motive,” Cullen said, and Solona watched him clench his jaw as he struggled to explain. “I didn’t want to tell you when I wasn’t certain we could cure it, and I didn’t know how you’d react. But clearly my instinct was right - you aren’t taking this well.” 

Solona stared at him, open-mouthed, before accusing, “I’m not taking this well? You lied to me, Cullen! You dragged me halfway across Ferelden without telling me why! And here I thought you were still the man I knew.” It was low, but she wasn’t thinking. 

“Do you mean being tortured by demons has changed me?” he immediately asked, his voice an angry, sarcastic drawl. It stung, but Solona was perversely glad that he was at least beginning to feel some semblance of what he felt. His face softened, tempered by regret, and he said, “I’m sorry, Solona. That was - “

“No, you’re right,” she interrupted, not wanting an apology. She was hurt, and angry, and afraid, and she wanted to fight it out, not be apologized to. “We haven’t known each other for years. I don’t know why I thought me coming along would be a good idea. I’m not the doe-eyed apprentice in the tower, and I don’t need a templar to come save me.” She pushed herself off the ground and stood, frowning at the sunset. “I’m leaving in the morning. Do not follow me.” 

The clearing wasn’t quite as spacious as her camps during the Blight had been, but there was still enough room that heading to the treeline gave her a feeling of privacy. Solona sat against the trunk of a tree, knees drawn up to her chest as she rested her arms on her legs. Now the adrenaline was gone, and she was left feeling shaky and empty. 

Solona put her face into her arms, but the only thing she could see when she closed her eyes was Cullen’s face, sad and struggling to think of what to say. She could see it in his eyes - he knew he could find the thing to say to keep her there, he just couldn’t think of it. It was why she’d stormed off. The last thing she needed was for him to convince her to stay, to live, to… 

Maker, she thought with a bitter laugh, she was excellent at driving off people who wanted to help her. 

She stared out to the forest, desperately wishing she hadn’t let things get to the point they had. 

A rustling behind her made her stiffen, and Solona looked up, not sure what she would say. To her surprise, it wasn’t Cullen, and Harding took a seat beside her. Solona frowned, looking away. 

“So,” said the dwarf, “I couldn’t help but overhear the shouting match.” 

Solona made a small “hmph” noise, but it seemed to encourage Harding. 

“You told Cullen to to follow you, so he hunted me down and sent me after you,” she said, and Solona suppressed a smile at the thought. 

After a moment, Harding said, “We really thought you knew that we knew about your Calling. That one’s my fault as much as it is Cullen’s. We should’ve realized. I’m sorry.” 

Solona still didn’t reply, hugging her knees closer to her chest.The two women sat in silence for, Harding’s calm presence bringing Solona down to normal. 

“I met you once, during the Fifth blight,” Harding said suddenly. The got Solona’s attention. She looked at Harding, opened her mouth to make some apology, but Harding waved a hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t expect you to remember me. It’s not like you can know the face of every single person you save. But I remember you. It was right after you saved Redcliffe - my father had gone to help defend the town, and we came as soon as we heard the news. We were all celebrating that day, and everyone kept telling stories about your bravery, and how your healing kept everyone alive even while you took down skeletons… and you just smiled and pointed out the locals who fought alongside you. So many people would have died without you, and all you cared about was making sure everyone shared credit.” 

Harding paused. “You’re a good person, Solona. You’re a great commander, and an amazing mage, but the thing that makes you a Hero is being Solona.” She smiled at Solona and directed her gaze out to the treeline. “I think… Cullen wanted to let his lyrium addiction kill him. I won’t tell you about his past, but he did some horrible things in Kirkwall. He thought that he had to die to make up for them.” Harding glanced back at her. “I don’t think he likes seeing that reflected in you. Especially since he worships you.” 

Solona opened her mouth to say… something. She didn’t know what, but Harding continued to speak. 

“Not even because of… whatever you two had in the tower. He sees how powerful you are, how people follow you, and he’s heard the stories of your kindness and bravery. A lot of people would let a title like Hero of Ferelden go to their heads, and you’re still… so humble.”

“I’m not humble,” Solona mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “So many people died because of how long it took me to end the Blight. Lothering was destroyed -”

“No disrespect, Warden-Commander, but that’s bullshit,” Harding said, and Solona stared at her. “Other Blights took decade and centuries to end. Whole countries were lost. You did it in a year, with one other warden and a handful of people you picked up along the way. Even if you don’t feel like it, you’re a hero. And Cullen sees that, sees how you used your last bit of time before dying to bring him back, expecting nothing in return -” Harding cut herself off. “Well. I doubt he’ll tell you this freely, but you should hear this coming from him.”

Solona was silent. “He really… He’s not just trying to ‘save’ me to pay back a debt?”

“No,” Harding said, “But like I said. You should talk to him.” Harding rose, and looked back down at Solona. “Look, I won’t tell you what to do. But even if you do wind up going to the Deep Roads, I hope you’ll come with us to Skyhold first. A lot of people miss you, Warden, and you deserve to be loved before you die.” 

Solona’s eyes pricked with tears as Harding left, and she took a minute to collect herself. She walked back to the campsite to find Cullen, along and pacing. He looked up at her approach, and walked over to her, stopping before her. 

“Solona,” he said, face serious and desperate and despondent, “I need to apologize. I should never have made that decision for you. I should have told you my intention, asked if you even wanted - “

“I’m sorry,” she said, cutting him off. Cullen stopped, looking confused. “I…” she trailed off. “I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to look for a cure at Skyhold, but I should have just said that instead of starting a fight.” 

It didn’t assuage the guilt on Cullen’s face, but at least he relaxed a little. “I was still in the wrong. I am sorry, Solona.” 

She smiled weakly, wanting to say more but holding herself back. Instead, she opened her arms for a hug, and asked, “Friends?”

Relief broke across Cullen’s face, and he pulled her into his arms. Solona pressed her face into his neck, breathing him in. Words could come later, when she had time to think about everything that had happened. For now, feeling his gratitude was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters to go now - thank you for reading, and thank you for your kudos and comments!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... happy 2018, everyone! I had gotten caught up in some RL stuff, but I'm back and we're going to keep going until this is done. Thanks for sticking with the story!

Solona didn’t sleep that night. The voices would come either way, now, and sleeping seemed to be a waste of the life she had left. She had gotten it hopelessly tangled. Not for the first time, she wondered at her decision to come to Skyhold. If Cullen had been able to figure out her Calling, then Leliana would certainly be able to do the same. She had to follow her duty, had to live up to what the Wardens expected. _In death, sacrifice._ She had already missed her chance to fulfill that once. She couldn't be selfish enough to dodge it again. 

Despite her ruminations, Solona drifted into sleep around dawn, thoughts consumed with what would happen when they arrived to Skyhold. 

She awoke to find the camp already taken down, save for her tent, with Harding and her horse gone. 

“Where’s Harding?” Solona asked. Cullen looked at her, eyes appraising her quickly. Probably to gauge her mood, she realized, feeling almost guilty. 

“She set off early, to let them know we’d arrive today,” Cullen explained. “We’ll still arrive at a decent time, but I - “

“You didn’t want to wake me,” she finished for him with a wry grin. Cullen smiled. 

“Did you want to eat before we head out?” he asked. Solona shook her head. 

“No, let’s get going. I don’t want to give them too much time to prepare for us or your ambassador will be able to plan that Maker-forsaken party.” 

She helped Cullen finish the preparations to leave, the two working in mostly silence. They spoke here and there, but the air was thick with a tension that hadn't been there before. Still half-asleep, Solona didn’t question it, just saddled her horse and followed alongside Cullen in relative silence. 

“We should arrive around sunset,” Cullen advised, “They’ll want to greet you, but we won’t be expected to do anything besides exchange pleasantries until tomorrow.” 

“That’s a relief,” she said, slightly less tense. “I think I can still handle diplomatic greetings.”

The silence stretched between them, and Solona realized Cullen didn’t want to push her after last night. They may have made up, but he didn’t know what her boundaries would be. It was respectful, but it was unnecessary, and Solona didn’t want him to be walking on eggshells around her forever.

“I owe you an explanation,” Solona said, and Cullen looked over to her, frowning. 

“You don’t owe me anything. It was my -”

“If you say fault I’ll push you off that horse,” she warned. 

“You’re welcome to try,” he said, and Solona snorted.

“Someone’s confident.” She paused, gaze straight ahead. “No, but really. You didn’t do anything wrong. Or, if you did, it’s really hypocritical of me to get mad at you after I saved your life without asking you if that’s what you wanted.” Cullen opened his mouth to reply and she quickly cut him off, adding, “Which you do not owe me anything for. We’re friends. I’m not keeping a list of who owes me what for saving their life.” 

At that, Cullen chuckled, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That would be a very long list.” 

Solona bit her lip, trying to decide the best way to phrase what she had to say. 

“I want to tell you why I… acted the way I did. And don’t say anything until I’m finished, please, or I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell you.” She glanced at him. He was watching the road ahead of them, but he nodded. She took a breath and continued, “This is another major Warden secret, but it seems like those aren’t as secret as I thought. I… I was supposed to die during the blight. And I don’t mean that I feel like I should have. The Warden who kills the Archdemon always dies. Has to die. But I didn’t. And only two people in Thedas other than me know about this, so I’m trusting you’ll keep this to yourself - it’s because I did something incredibly selfish, and possibly very stupid, and I still don’t know if there will be consequences. And the Wardens at Weisshaupt are suspicious. And if I survive, again, when I should have died, again… I lived on ten years of borrowed time, Cullen. I deserve to die this time.”

She remembered what Harding said, and glanced over at Cullen to see how he took her confession. He, to her surprise, looked contemplative. 

“You feel as though your duty to the Wardens requires your life,” he said, glancing over to her. Something in her face must have confirmed that for him, because he nodded. “Forget the Wardens,” he said, “What do you want?”

“What?” she asked, not sure how to respond. 

“You’ve given your entire adult life into the Wardens’ service. That 'borrowed time' wasn't yours, it was theirs. What if you decided that was enough? Do you want to live?” He asked. Solona frowned, mulling it over. She hadn’t thought about it that way.

“I don’t know,” she finally said, “My whole life has been circumscribed by things I’ve had no control over. I didn’t choose to be a mage, and I didn’t actually get a say in if I wanted to be a Warden. I’ve never had to be someone who was just… a person.”

“Would you like a chance to be?” Cullen asked, looking at her with an intensity that took her breath away. She didn’t know how to answer, so she didn’t, and he amended, gaze back on the path before him, “You don’t have to answer. It’s something for you to think on. The world has changed, Solona. You can just live. Forget the Wardens, forget the circle.”

Solona snorted. “Without the Wardens, I’m an apostate.”

“I’m not certain how you keep forgetting this,” Cullen said, voice dry and amused, “But you are the Hero of Ferelden. And I have a feeling the King would be willing to keep you as an advisor at court.”

Solona made a face, and Cullen laughed. “If you’d like,” he continued, “You’d be welcome to join the Inquisition. But you do have choices, Solona. You don’t have to resign yourself to a fate you don’t want out of a sense of duty.” 

They rode in silence, Solona considering his offer. She hadn’t even thought about what she wanted from life - the self-denial she’d learned from living in the Circle had simply morphed into duty to the Grey Wardens. She hadn’t considered if she could have real freedom. 

“What will you do?” She asked. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Cullen said. “I’ll speak with the Inquisitor before I settle on a course of action.”

“Spoken like a true commander,” she said, lips wryly turning up at the corners. “Do you think she’ll ask you to come back?”

Cullen frowned in thought. “Perhaps. I don’t know if that’s an offer I would take.” 

“What else is there?” Solona asked. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “For the longest time, I had thought my future was with the Templars. And then I had thought the Inquisition, and lyrium…” He trailed off. “But you’ve given me the opportunity for more. I suppose I can decide what that is when we get to Skyhold.” 

The two continued in silence, but it felt different - more companionable. Solona thought, for the first time, about what she could have, if she lived. She wondered if it might be worth it.


	12. Chapter 12

They arrived much sooner than expected, to Solona’s trepidation. Thankfully, it seemed word hadn’t spread about who Cullen’s travelling companion would be. The crowds that rushed to greet them all focused on Cullen, all awed and grateful he had returned. Solona felt a rush of gratification - she had saved him because he was him, and because of the history between them, but knowing the impact he had on others… 

The two dismounted, with Cullen greeting the crowds but politely insisting he needed to see the Inquisitor before anything else. Solona rested a hand on his forearm, already beginning to feel anxiety about the crowd surrounding them. She’d been solitary for years; having all these strangers crowding around them, even without them recognizing her, made her antsy. He glanced down at her, expertly reading her expression, and rested his hand on the small of her back, gently steering them both towards a large, castle-like structure.

The crowd was thinner, now, but still a few important looking people milled about the hall. They were stopped by a voice. 

“Warden-Commander Amell?” asked a woman dressed in Chantry finery. Solona frowned, not wanting this woman to reveal her identity that had been so carefully hidden in respect to her preferences. 

“Yes,” she said, pressing closer to Cullen. He traced his thumb up and down her spine, gaze already on the far end of the room. Fair enough, to be preoccupied with his own problems. 

“Her Holiness, the Divine Victoria, requests to see you immediately,” the woman said. Solona turned to Cullen, hoping her deep feeling of “what the fuck” was being properly conveyed by the look on her face. At her movement, Cullen looked down and took in her expression. He looked almost amused. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, clearly aiming for reassuring and falling flat. “You can come find me after.” He took his hand off her back, lacing their fingers together for a moment before stepping away. “Just have someone show you to my office.” 

He continued down the hall, leaving Solona alone with the adherent. 

“We will be going this way, Warden-Commander.” Solona followed, already keenly feeling Cullen’s absence. She tried to attribute that feeling to her responsibility as a healer and knew that was only a small bit of it. Least of all was her worry about what a Divine could possibly want with her. Warden, mage, none of it really made her worth speaking to. 

As they reached the top of the staircase and Solona’s eyes fell on familiar red hair, it finally dawned on her what, exactly, she’d been summoned for. She ran the rest of the way across the room, throwing herself into Leliana’s open arms. 

“Leliana!” she exclaimed, face buried in her friend’s neck. 

“Warden,” Leliana said, sounding the same as ever. “It has been too long.”

“What’s a decade between friends?” Solona asked, grinning. She looked Leliana over, comprehension dawning slower than it probably should have. 

“You’re the Divine?” Solona asked, already aware of the answer, and Leliana’s smile grew. 

“Nobody told you?” she asked, and the glint of mirth in her eyes made Solona feel exactly as though they were at back at camp during the Blight. She felt a surge of just how much she had missed her friend, and pulled her into another hug. 

“No. You’d think it’s the sort of thing Cullen might have mentioned,” Solona said. 

Leliana’s smiled conveyed something, but Solona wasn’t quite sure what. “Yes, well. Our commander can be very single-minded in his focus. He certainly hasn’t told you about the reforms I’ve made for mages then, has he?”

“Reforms?” Solona asked, hoping against hope. 

Leliana’s gaze softened, playfulness gone from her face. “I am glad I am the one to tell you. The circles are disbanded. Mages are free to live their lives as they wish.” 

Solona’s breath caught in her throat. No wonder Cullen tried to convince her to leave the Wardens - she wouldn’t be an apostate now. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. If she was cured, if she would be free, if he wanted her - Dizziness got the better of her, and she sank into a chair. “It - and people are okay with that? They’re just… letting mages exist?”

“There has been some resistance,” Leliana said, looking more amused than annoyed at the thought. She was doing a good job of not commenting on how stunned Solona looked. “But for now, yes. The Chantry remains strong, and mages remain free.” 

“Leliana, I….” she exhaled softly, the weight of what this really meant still not hitting her fully. At least some of the feeling was coming back into her limbs. “I can’t even begin to thank you. I… this is incredible.” 

Leliana’s grin turned playful once more. “You can begin by telling me what kept you from joining us at Skyhold. Having you here to gossip with would have made things much more fun.”

Solona grinned, for the first time in years letting down her guard. 

“Well, I hadn’t told you about leaving Amaranthine…” 

The two chatted until well after sundown, when Solona’s yawns became too obvious to hide. 

“I’ll have someone take you to your room,” Leliana offered. Solona paused. For the first time in a very long time, she actually did want to sleep, but before that…

“Actually,” she said, aiming for nonchalant but feeling exactly like the unsubtle seventeen year old she’d been when they first met, “Can I check in on Cullen first?”

Leliana grinned but didn’t make a comment, which somehow made Solona feel even more transparent. But instead of teasing her, she said her goodnights and had someone bring her down the flight of stairs and over to his office. She stood alone at the door, feeling nervous and excited and almost like she was on the verge of saying something she knew she wouldn’t be able to take back. 

Hesitantly, she knocked. 

“Come in,” Cullen said, and relief flooded Solona. She entered to find his office looked exactly as he’d described it to her. The man himself sat behind his desk, reviewing papers. He hadn’t even looked up; she wondered if he just told her to come in out of habit. She took the moment to look him over, now that he’d changed from the simple clothes he’d been wearing since she’d found him. He was dressed in full armor, and Solona found herself suppressing the urge to walk over and pet his pauldrons. He’d slicked back his hair, his soft curls combed into something resembling order. It suited him, but she found herself missing the way he looked before. This was the Commander of the Inquisition, leader of armies. She already missed her Cullen, in trousers and a tunic, hair a mess of curls. But then again, that wasn’t really him, was it? This was the version of himself he wanted to present, and she couldn’t deny the pleasant feelings his appearance now was stirring up in her. Swallowing hard, she broke the silence. 

“They’ve already got you back at work?” Solona asked, managing to force her voice into something resembling humor. 

Cullen looked up from his papers and broke out in a genuine smile as he realized it was her. “This is voluntary. My second-in-command said he knew I’d be back. He’s been writing up reports on everything for when I returned.” 

“I heard a lot of comments about how much you work,” Solona said, “but I didn’t expect them to be this accurate.” 

He laughed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I may have something of a reputation.”

“Speaking of,” Solona said, crossing the room to lean her hip against his desk. She crossed her arms, partially for show and partially to hide her shaking hands. “It might have been nice to get a heads up that the Divine is just Leliana.” 

Cullen’s lips curled up into a smirk, and wow her mind was preoccupied with other things that mouth could be doing, much more productive things… She almost missed when he began to talk. 

“I thought it’d be a nice surprise,” he said, his voice teasing. 

Solona would have laughed, but they were getting too close to the topic she really wanted to discuss for her to be comfortable. “And the circles…”

“Harding told me,” Cullen confirmed for her, his face softening. “I didn’t want to seem like I was pushing you towards a decision.” 

She swallowed. “So I really could just… be a person. I wouldn’t have to be a warden, or a circle mage…” 

“Realistically, you’re still the Hero of Ferelden,” Cullen said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re aren’t quite ‘just a person’.” Solona realized, with a little surprise, that Cullen was anxious. “But you wouldn’t be confined to a circle. You could live where you want, do what you want.” 

Solona licked her lips nervously, and Cullen’s eyes darted down to her mouth. Before he could ask what both were thinking, she blurted out, “What did you decide?”

Cullen blinked, pulled back to a safer course of conversation. “To stay, for now. The peace we’ve established is still tentative. I’d like to stay and help.”

Solona nodded, taking him in. “It suits you,” she said, meaning it. 

Cullen held her gaze, and she paused, both exhilarated and terrified and far too exhausted to be having the conversation she desperately wanted to be having. Thankfully, Cullen gave her an out. “Have they shown you to your room?” he asked. 

“No,” Solona said, knowing she was too tired to stay but not wanting to leave. “I don’t think I can handle all the trappings of luxury. Do you think they’ll let me set up camp in the courtyard instead?”

Cullen chuckled. “You’re certainly welcome to try.” He paused. “Josephine showed me your room earlier. I could walk you there, if you’d like?”

“Yes, please,” Solona said, half-wondering if Harding had started some Inquisition-wide conspiracy to keep the two of them alone. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that just yet. She was still trying to sort out her own feelings, especially now that she knew all the possibilities that lay before her. 

The two walked in silence, Solona lost in her thoughts and Cullen seemingly unwilling to interrupt her. All too soon, they arrived at the room where she’d be staying. Solona paused at the threshold. Not yet willing to say good night, she asked, “How bad is it?”

Cullen smiled. “Not bad at all. I had to fight her a bit on some of her more extravagant touches, now that you’re nobility again, but I think you’ll find it to your tastes.”

“Oh, Andraste,” Solona said, looking like she’d swallowed something awful. “I am nobility again, aren’t I? I could go back to the family estate in…” she trailed off, not wanting to bring up Kirkwall. Cullen hadn’t told her much, but from what he’d said it was the worst chapter of his life. Including the lyrium addiction and withdrawal. She shuddered. “Well, that’s a thought for another day.” Hesitantly, she pushed open the door. The room was larger than she would’ve liked, but looked more homey than luxurious. There was a fire going in the fireplace, and some creature comforts had been left around the room for her. 

“Oh, thank the Maker,” she exhaled, walking inside to take it all in. “This looks lovely.” 

“I’m glad,” Cullen said, watching her from the doorway. “You should try to get some rest. You know where my office is now, if you need anything. Good night.” 

“Cullen,” she said, voice making him pause. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but she didn’t want to let him go just yet. He waited, watching her with something that seemed an awful lot like hope. “I…” she trailed off, knowing whatever happened next would change things between them, not sure if she wanted to take that risk. He cared about her, clearly, but if it was just because he felt he owed his life to her… well, it was unfair to take advantage of that, wasn’t it? A small, rebellious little voice inside her asked, what if it isn’t? “Once you head back to your office, you’ll be right back to that paperwork, won’t you?”

“Most likely,” he agreed, his voice light and cautious. 

“Well then,” she said, still not meeting his gaze, “As your healer, I can’t let that happen, can I?” She paused. “You should… stay the night. If you want to. Healer’s orders.” She stole a glance at him and felt that same lightheaded elation she felt when Leliana told her the circles were abolished. Cullen’s gaze was gentle, and soft, and - 

He pulled the door shut behind him, gently walking over to her. He shed his gloves, leaving them on the table as he approached her. One of his arms snaked around her waist, hand resting on the small of her back and pulling her closer. The other rested on her neck, his thumb gently tracing her jawline. “Healer’s orders,” he agreed, voice pitched low as he gazed down at her. 

“Cullen,” she breathed, hands uselessly at her sides. “I don’t - I haven’t decided yet - “ His fingers traced gentle circles on her lower back, and the contact made her shiver. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. 

Slowly, watching her expression, Cullen leaned closer. Her eyes fell shut, and he softly pressed his lips to hers. Tentatively, she kissed him back, hands resting on his chest. He pulled back, just enough to make eye contact, and murmured, “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. What do you want now?”

She swallowed, looking into his amber eyes and knowing exactly what she wanted. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him again, pulling him down to her level. She could feel him smiling into their kiss, and pulled away for just a moment to look him over. “Are you sure?” she asked, anxious that he felt pressured. All she had expected was to share the room - she hadn’t imagined he would respond like this.

Cullem pulled her close again, pressing a kiss to her neck. Into her ear, he said, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Wanting to clarify before either of them got out of hand, she hurried to continue, “I just want to sleep together - to rest! Lie down, and close our eyes and go to sleep.” Cullen, who had been busy peppering kisses along her neck, stopped, nuzzling into her with a laugh. 

“I can’t argue with my healer,” he agreed, and swept her off her feet to carry her to the bed. 

Between his nightmares and her Darkspawn dreams, it wasn’t the most spectacular rest either of them had, but with the two of them curled around each other, it was the best night she’d had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness this has been a long time coming. Next chapter will wrap it all up. Thank you for reading!!!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the end! If you have any "missing scenes" from this fic that you'd like to prompt me for, or any other DA prompts in general, drop by my tumblr, lyricallyriumao3.tumblr.com! There's nothing really on there yet, but I'm hoping to respond to lots of short prompts to keep things going. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I have a few ideas for more long form fics coming up, and have some shorter pieces written that I'll be posting in the coming weeks. But for now, I hope you enjoy!

It was pre-dawn, but the first rays of sunrise began to filter into the room. Beside Solona, Cullen slept, having settled down from a nightmare a scant few hours ago. Still sleeping, Cullen stretched, then curled up against her. His arm reached around her middle, his grip slackened by unconsciousness. 

Maker, all they had done was share a bed and it was the best night she’d had in a decade. 

Solona traced her fingers along his arm, musing to herself about what the right call was. Obviously he wanted her - or at least liked her enough to kiss her senseless and spend the night with her. If she had a future, she wanted him in it. But if she took it, would she even be the kind of person who was worthy of him?

She glanced at his face and realized he was watching her through half-lidded eyes, a small smile on his face. Her heart did a backflip, screaming at her that did any of that really matter? 

“Good morning,” Cullen murmured sleepily. He rolled on to his back, pulling her against him. She lay, half on top of him and half on the bed. 

“Good night,” Solona replied, snuggling closer to him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his hand lazily tracing up and down her back. 

“Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?” he asked.

“Do you have to get up yet?” Solona asked. Cullen looked hesitant. She smiled, “That’s a yes.”

“I said I’d oversee morning training,” Cullen admitted, looking her over as though he wanted to memorize her. “I didn’t realize I’d be… otherwise occupied. I can send a message -“

“It’s okay,” Solona said softly. “You need to go. They need to see you now more than ever.”

“And you…?” Cullen asked, voice cautious. 

“I will come find you the moment you’re back in your office,” she said, promising. “I owe you an answer, after all.”

Cullen looked torn between asking and not wanting to push her. “I remember my offer from last night. You shouldn’t - don’t take last night into account.”

“What if I want to?” She asked, watching him for a reaction. 

Cullen gently leaned down, softly kissing her. She couldn’t help a small moan; she could feel more than see his smile. 

“I’d like that,” he said. “Solona, I -“ he stopped. “Later,” he said, more to himself than her, and it sounded like both an admonition and a promise. “When - if - Later.”

He kissed her once more and rose from the bed, gathering his discarded pieces of armor. She watched him, already feeling the promise of sleep dragging her down. 

“You’ll come find me?” He asked, looking hesitant to leave. It was as though putting on his armor had put some distance between them, had made him Commander of the Inquisition rather than just Cullen. 

“Promise,” Solona said. Cullen lingered in the doorway a moment, eyes tracing her form, before turning around and closing the door on her. 

She found herself unable to sleep after he left. Solona rose and made her bed, musing about what she should do. 

So much of her identity was wrapped up in being a warden. Being the Warden-Commander. So many responsibilities, so much riding on her… 

But there were so many things she’d put aside, too. She’d all but given up the hope that she could have a family, a place of her own to live. Any thoughts of what she could do magically, too, had been lost when she gave herself into the Warden’s service. There wasn’t time to play around with spells when there were recruits to be trained and darkspawn to be killed and decisions to be made. 

She left her room, wandering around the grounds of the Inquisition. Not wearing Warden armor, and not having been seen publicly for a decade, no one recognized her. She couldn’t deny it was rather nice. 

A voice drew her out of her reverie. 

“The singing came, and I felt peace. Never had a choice before. Anxious. Guilt. I don’t deserve this.” 

Solona startled, staring him down. “Excuse me?” she said, feeling her heart racing. 

“It’s quiet, now, for most, but yours is singing clear,” said the… man? Solona couldn’t quite tell his age from his appearance. “You do deserve, everything and more. He wants you to have it, but you have to be the one to want it.” He paused, cocked his head. Solona felt vaguely concerned.

“What - “ Solona stopped, frowning and unsure of how to continue. “I don’t…” 

“It’s alright,” he said. “No one does.” He looked her over once more and, seemingly satisfied, said, “He wants it, too.” 

Solona watched him walk away, feeling both unsettled and oddly reassured. She made a note to remember to ask who that was. 

She glanced up at the sky; from the position of the sun, Cullen had to be done by now. Her sense of direction may be miserable, but his tower was easy enough to find. She knocked, and heard a distracted, “Come in”. She entered, and Cullen looked up, paperwork forgotten in a moment as he noticed her. 

“Hi,” Solona said. 

“Hello,” Cullen returned. He was true to his word - it was as if their kiss (kisses, she reminded herself) had never happened, Cullen keeping himself a respectful distance, standing behind his desk. 

“So… I’ve made my choice,” she said, and Cullen nodded. He had a better poker face than he had when they were young, but she could still see the anxiety in the way he held himself. “And I… I want to stay here. With the Inquisition.” With you hung in the air between them. 

Cullen’s face lit up. “I’ll fetch the first enchanter at once,” he said, striding across the room to her. The look on her face stopped him short, just before he reached her.

“About that…”

She had the decency to look ashamed. 

“We don’t have to look for the cure. I already know it.” 

Cullen stared at her, looking in disbelief. Solona’s gaze dropped to the floor, her words flowing faster than she could think them. 

“I think I told you, I had a huge argument with Alistair before I left for my Calling… I’d given him the cure, and he was furious with me for not taking it for myself.” Cullen still stared, and Solona guiltily shifted her weight. “It’s not like it’s impossible to make again. Should only take a few days to gather what we need. Fewer, if the Inquisition is willing to-“ 

To her surprise, Cullen pressed a hand against his face and laughed. 

“Solona,” he said, and she could hear an edge of tears in his voice. “I was so terrified that I’d convince you to stay and we wouldn’t find a cure in time… and you…” he looked down at her, and she saw unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I am so-“ he closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. “I have been praying that you’d chose to live. To think that you’re here, and you’ll be safe -” Solona closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her close, holding on to her for a moment before letting her go.

“I cannot convey to you what this means to me. Words… were never my strong suit.”

Solona laughed, feeling a bit like crying herself. “It’s endearing,” she said. 

“You’re endearing,” he replied, face watching her in adoration until he realized what he said and grimaced. “Maker, that was…”

“Smooth,” she said, “You could wisk a lady off her feet with witty repartee like that.”

“Well,” he murmured, cupping her jaw. “Now that we have the luxury of time, I think I’d like a chance to properly court you.” Her heart fluttered, and she swallowed hard, trying to stay calm even as she wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him she was already his. 

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing the past few weeks?” She asked, and he shook his head, a fond smirk playing on his lips. “I think I’ve been pre-courted, at this point,” she said, and he laughed, pulling her in for a soft, slow kiss. He buried his face in her hair for a moment before stepping back. 

“We should get started, then. Give me the list of what you need. We’ll have it before sundown. I’ll make arrangements with the Inquisitor for you to stay officially. And…” he trailed off, gazing at her as though she’d hung the moon. “Lady Amell, would you be so kind as to join me for dinner?” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, eyes locked with hers. She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks, and Cullen looked deeply satisfied with himself. 

“You are such a dork,” she managed, breathlessly. 

Cullen’s grin widened, and he asked, “Shall I assume that’s a yes?”

“Yes,” Solona said, and Cullen pulled her in for another kiss. 

“Let’s not delay, then,” he told her, taking her hand and leading her back to his desk. He produced both paper and parchment for her, and she set about to writing what she’d need. 

Solona was both thrilled and absolutely terrified of what was to come next, but with her Commander at her side, she knew she’d figure it out.


End file.
